


the four times that pact commander magna and shining blade asset canach gave the rumor mills false ammo and the one time they didn't

by Crowsister



Series: bloodstained ash [1]
Category: Guild Wars 2 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Gossip, Magna's narration isn't nice to Anise but I try to be fair about it, Two Commanders, Warband Silliness Abound, female Charr Commander, possible spoilers for HoT/PoF/LW shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-05-29 19:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 25,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15080147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowsister/pseuds/Crowsister
Summary: “So, you could fabricate something elaborate,” he replied. “Use Taliesinnia as some kind of inspiration or rip lines from a popular romance novel from a few years ago-”“Tried that,” she replied. “No dice. They want it with someone that they can verify exists.”“None of your old warband would be willing?” Canach asked.Magna scrunched her nose. “No.No. Reeva would laugh and tell me to go get arealromantic partner. Then she’d make sure that nobody else would agree to do it by threatening to plant a burning salve in their armor.” She snorted. “Engineers.”Canach hummed. He carefully observed the area around them, looking for eavesdroppers or anyone else. Seeing no one, he replied quietly, “I could do it.”She shut her newspaper shut with a loud clap, bending her head down to maximize her incredulous look. “What.”





	1. 0: The Scheme

**Author's Note:**

> Quick setting-deviation notes: There're two Pact Commanders. There's Commander Taliesinnia, who is the sylvari Commander who went through the events of Living World Season 1, and Magna Sunglare, the charr Commander who very much did not meet and befriend the Living World crew like Taliesinnia did. Eventually I'll finish the Season 2 rewrite fic I started a _year_ ago with how Magna meets and gets along with those dorks, but for now, just assume that Magna's been trying to keep herself at a very professional distance while Taliesinnia tries to get Magna to hug people. Magna's only here because Traehearne is being an overprotective big brother. Magna and Canach have had snarky banter about how they're totally not spies and they know that the other one is totally not a spy, making Canach the sole person of the Living World crew that Magna's had more than a five word conversation with.  
>  _This was a stress relief fic, so it's probably not as polished as my other stuff, but I literally just wanted to write some cute shit, so have some fake dating nonsense._  
> 

Canach swore under his breath, slowly tearing apart the camp. “Taliesinnia, I swear, if you’ve taken my bomb crafting kit again, I’ll-”

A voice to his left replied, “Under the third crate to your left.”

He turned and saw Commander Magna Sunglare, currently his favorite commander (as compared to his “sister”, who thought it was appropriate to interrupt him while he was _working_ while he was _trying_ to keep Mordremoth from driving him _insane_ ), sitting on the second crate to his left and reading some kind of Krytan newspaper. She was average for a charr, almost painfully so—average height, average voice, average build, semi-average coloration (like somewhat cool cinders). If he didn’t know who she was, he’d note her position and then pass her by without a second thought. If he took a second glance while not knowing who she was, he’d note the familiar horn pattern (identical to the dear Tribune Rytlock Brimstone, if you went digging for pictures). Then there were the eyes he’d get a glance at a time or two: orange like fire. He was less familiar with her than her co-commander, but he knew enough from Taliesinnia rambling in earshot to know that Magna Sunglare was not a chatty person. Or, at least, wasn’t chatty enough for Taliesinnia’s tastes. There was something in Anise’s dossier on the charr being a gladium, something about Ash Legion, but he didn’t have the patience to try to remember the details. All he knew was that Magna Sunglare subverted damn near all of Taliesinnia’s pranks, had an appreciation for black powder, and was damn near religious about her pistols and the maintenance thereof.

He checked under the crate to find his kit intact. He gave a sigh of relief, putting the damned thing back into his pack. “Thank you, Commander.”

“You’re welcome.” She looked up at him and he almost blinked seeing her without her damn monocle on. Magna tilted her head, leaning towards him conspiratorial. She whispered, “If we sit and look like we’re talking, she’ll leave you alone. She thinks that we aren’t making friends with everyone else fast enough. If we don’t do this, her next plan is to lock us in a room with cards and booze.”

“And if that doesn’t work?” he whispered, raising an eyebrow.

“Trust exercises,” Magna whispered. “With everyone else. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not squish Kasmeer or Taimi with my body weight and then have to deal with Marjory and Braham’s wrath.”

“Taimi would cheat and use her golem,” he replied. “By the by, how do you know her plans?”

Magna leaned back to her original sitting position, looking back at the newspaper. “Ash Legion secret.”

He huffed, sitting back on his crate. He tilted his head. “Isn’t that the gossip section of the Krytan Gazette?”

“It is,” Magna answered, flicking to the next page.

He read the headline on the front page. _Exclusive Pact Commander Secrets, Found Only By Our Best Informants Throughout Tyria._ “Commander, if I may be so bold,” Canach replied, “why do you care about human gossip? Even Taliesinnia knows that paper is garbage and she used to believe that dolyaks had an ancestor called a horse.”

Magna looked at him over her newspaper. He supposed that if he were a lesser sylvari, he might’ve shuddered at the almost-feral look in her eyes. “We’re in the middle of a warzone,” Magna answered, “and I need to be angry to fight well.”

“Ah, the classic charr brutality,” Canach replied. “I see why you and Rytlock get along so well.”

“Considering your relationship with your parents,” Magna replied, “I shouldn’t be shocked that you think that Rytlock and I only get along because of ‘classic charr brutality’.”

Canach blinked. Once. Twice. “I’m sorry, did you just imply that Rytlock Brimstone is your _father_?”

Magna snorted. He could see a hint of a smirk on her muzzle from behind her newspaper. “I know. I was shocked to find out that my fake sire left me an inheritance with the explicit purpose of getting me to bond with my real sire.” She shook her head, seeming almost...fond? “Human-touched fool.”

“...did you just read that from that newspaper?” Canach asked. “Because I don’t believe that for a singular, tiny, infinitesimal moment.”

Magna shrugged, chuckling. “That’s entirely up to you, Canach. In any case, I read this garbage not for classic charr brutality. If I wanted a pep talk in that, I have a Tribune of Blood Legion as my father who is always willing to give a word or two of advice in that department. No, I read this to build up _malice._ I don’t need to be a a cannoneer with a deep-set pride for my prototype actually _functioning_ in combat or a frontliner, beating my chest with a fist. I am Ash—messy confidence or hot anger play no function in how I fight. But malice? Calculated anger with full intent to harm?” She imitated a gun-cocking noise with her mouth. “Bam.”

“And reading that generates that _how_?” Canach asked. “Seems like too much trouble and idiocy to bother when the very real horrors that Mordremoth is committing can generate that much better in a manner that’s more effective and productive.”

Magna blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice. “...no one’s ever pointed out something to that effect before.”

“I imagine other people get caught up in your melodramatic display,” Canach replied, “I mean, seriously, _malice_? Ooooooh, full intent to harm, I’m terrified.”

Magna snorted. Good, she didn’t take herself _that_ seriously. “I’m dreadfully sorry that it did not pass the Canach-Certified Criterion.”

“You can be pleased to know that _that_ did,” Canach replied. “I’m using that from now on. Canach-Certified Criterion. Incidentally, what in that awful rag gets you so full of _malice_?”

“They run an article in every edition that’s called the Tribune Tab,” Magna answered. “It’s absolute dolyak shit. Used to give me a laugh when they wrote gossip articles about Rytlock’s supposed steamy romance with Logan Thackeray.”

He tilted his head again, watching one of her ears flick to the side briefly before returning to the others. “But?”

“They renamed the section to the Commander Catch. They’ve been running articles about how Rytlock and I are starcrossed charr lovers, which is _gross_.” She wrinkled her nose. “Not only is he my sire, but he’s _Blood Legion_ , Canach. _Blood Legion_.” She snorted as if trying to extinguish the very idea of it with her exhale. “I draw the line at Iron when it comes to dating charr outside of Ash.”

“Aren’t you a gladium?” he asked. “Outside of Ash?”

“Yes and no, it’s complicated. You can put down that for your report for Countess Anise: Magna Sunglare’s relationship with the Ash Legion is _Complicated_ ,” Magna answered. “In any case, it’s typical human over-analysis of social cues. Charr don’t headbutt to _kiss_ , it’s a general show of affection that’s commonly, ninety-five percent of the time, _platonic_.” She huffed, blowing some of her hair out of her eye. “If I had gotten famous with my warband, they’d think that I was in some kind of harem love-pile with my warband.”

“Obviously, they need something more ridiculous to focus on,” Canach replied. “Have they truly gotten tired of spinning stories about Queen Jennah and Countess Anise cuddling in the theater?”

“No, no, those two have their own section,” Magna replied. “It’s just that I’m the more mysterious and aloof Commander, so I get more of this garbage-heap’s attention than Taliesinnia because...well. Everyone knows if she was in a relationship, she’d scream from the rooftops about it. Or treetops, in our current environment.”

“So, you could fabricate something elaborate,” he replied. “Use Taliesinnia as some kind of inspiration or rip lines from a popular romance novel from a few years ago-”

“Tried that,” she replied. “No dice. They want it with someone that they can _verify_ exists.”

“None of your old warband would be willing?” Canach asked.

Magna scrunched her nose. “No. _No_. Reeva would laugh and tell me to go get a _real_ romantic partner. Then she’d make sure that nobody else would agree to do it by threatening to plant a burning salve in their armor.” She snorted. “ _Engineers_.”

Canach hummed. He carefully observed the area around them, looking for eavesdroppers or anyone else. Seeing no one, he replied quietly, “I could do it.”

She shut her newspaper shut with a loud clap, bending her head down to maximize her incredulous look. “What.”

“Think about it: if we fake a relationship to everyone around us,” Canach replied, “Taliesinnia will stop trying to get us to be friends with each other and can use the other as an excuse to not do social activities.” He put a hand to his chest, leaning his head back in a fake swoon. “Taliesinnia, I can’t possibly go to such an event. My dear, sweet Magna may die any day now and I wish to see her at every possible second to make sure I do not miss a second.”

Magna hummed, leaning back. She regarded him slowly. “What else do you get out of it?”

He shrugged, gesturing at the folded newspaper. “Page 7, middle section.”

She squinted at him, but then opened the newspaper. She turned to the right page, reading slowly. Canach watched her big bushy eyebrows raise up and she looked up at him, somehow more incredulous.

“They think you’re in a _relationship_ with Countess Anise?” Magna asked, letting out a guffaw. “Doesn’t she own your _billet_?”

Canach nodded.

“And regularly use and regard you as a _tool_?”

Canach nodded, smirking. “Commander, we haven’t even started the charade yet, you don’t have to sound like you _care_.”

Magna huffed. “I won’t call you any variation of flower pet names if you stick away from cat-related ones.”

He offered her a hand. “You have yourself a deal, Commander.”


	2. 1: Post-Mordremoth Mushiness

Mordremoth had not been a fun experience, to say the least. Not for anyone involved. A brush with the mind of that monster was enough for Canach. He had been surprised when Magna took him along with the norn welp: he’d been expecting her to reach out to the two members of Destiny’s Edge that she’d fought alongside before. Her supposed father seemed like a shoe-in, but the two were operating on some level he didn’t know how to interpret. At the time, it was easy to write off as charr grandstanding, but now, after the fight, after seeing how reserved Magna was to sacrifice herself to make sure the day was saved, Canach wasn't so sure.

He leaned back against the large tree outside of Mordremoth’s inner den, processing everything. He felt lighter and clearer for the first time since this mess started—he was firmer in his belief of knowing just _exactly_ who he was. However, this did not stop the headache that was coming on from Taliesinnia’s constant questioning of Magna.

“What was it like in there? What did you see? Did you see the sylvari's history? Did you see in there Mordremoth's reasoning for making fern hounds, but not fern cats?” It was easy to forget that Taliesinnia was a newer sapling, but times like this made it  _very_ easy to remember. “Why didn’t you take me in there?” She asked. “Did you think I couldn’t handle it? Did you-”

Canach politely looked away when Magna bent her head down to lightly headbutt Taliesinnia. “I wasn’t going to leave the Pact without a Commander,” Magna replied quietly, “if I had died in there, they’d still need you.”

He heard a sharp gasp and Magna grunted. He looked back to see that Taliesinnia had swiftly hugged Magna before swinging up into an impromptu hybrid between a piggy-back ride and a tighter hug.

“We’d all still need you, silly,” Taliesinnia replied. “No martyr plays! Traehearne was a butt-an _asshole_ and used up all of the Pact’s martyr plays. Now there are none of those for anybody else. I lost one brother, if I had lost my weird charr sister too, I’d be fucking _useless_ to everyone. Strawberry Cream would have to drag me around by my scruff.” She dropped down, cuddling the hairless bear monstrosity she called a pet. “Isn’t that right, big guy?”

The thing made a snorting sound as it leaned into her touch and she laughed.

Canach made eye-contact with Magna and inspiration struck. He walked up, wrapping an hand around Magna’s shoulder and bringing the charr down for a headbutt.

“I wasn’t going to let that happen, Taliesinnia,” he replied, almost delighting in Taliesinnia’s wide-eyed look as he pulled back from the headbutt.

Magna snorted. “My hero,” she chuckled, giving him another one, a little rougher this time. “It’s okay, Taliesinnia. Every time I fell to pieces in there, your brother picked me right up.”

Oh, she was _lying_. Like a _liar_. They both knew it was her that helped him through Mordremoth’s attempts to break his will. Or was she referring to his weak encouragement (he’d been trying, but really “you can do it” was not going to reach anyone’s top two-hundred memorable words. Honestly, Braham was more eloquent in the whole affair and his encouragement consisted of shouting explicatives) when she was faced with the faces of people she presumably loved, but were accusing her of ruining the world? In any case, the lie made him snort.

“One promise to go get coffee together and you suddenly fought so much better,” he teased. “If I didn’t know better, Commander, I’d say that you set everything up to get a date out of me.”

She grinned at him, snickering. “Can’t take credit, you’ve been making up excuses to be around me for _weeks_ -”

“Oh, so you _did_ notice that,” he replied.

“How can I not notice your handsome face out of the corner of my eye at almost every campsite and fight?” She lowered her vocal pitch and he realized that she was trying to imitate _his voice_. “I have a sword and shield, of _course_ I’ll take every hit for you, that’s my job, you see, the shield says so right here.”

Two can play that game. “My name is Magna Sunglare and when I’m not stealing people’s breath away with my charming melodrama and beautiful eyes, I throw myself into the middle of combat because that’s what a _ranged_ fighter is supposed to do. My two pistols say so.”

“Okay, but you _liked_ when I stole that one Mordrem’s pocket skull and scared him with it.”

“Yes, it was highly amusing, but I’d rather not have to see you _skewered_ on a lance for such a move.”

Taliesinnia spoke up, “You guys haven’t been on a first date and you sound _married._ Like Rytlock and Logan levels of _married_.”

Canach briefly wondered how her voice could crack and squeak like that at the same time before leaning up and giving a light kiss to Magna’s cheek. “Life will do that to you.”

He was so busy chuckling at Taliesinnia’s wide-eyed expression and her questions for advice that he didn’t notice Magna went still as a rock at the kiss and how she fell silent after it.

* * *

A few days after, Canach received a letter in the mail from Magna. He opened it to find an article cut out from the Krytan Gazette titled,  _“Commander Sunglare getting cuddly with the Bane of Southsun?”_ He snorted, looking it over along with Magna's annotations, which she wrote down in an old Warden cipher (almost adorable, but the amount of information she knew about other governments and their information networks was slightly worrying if he was being honest with himself).

_“Hook, line, and sinker. Good gamble on one of their informants being around during or after that display. Let me know what dates you think you'll be available and we can go make a public spectacle of coffee. The Order of Whispers has already asked me five times, from five different people, what exactly I'm doing, but I've written it off as me spying on you. If you are having trouble with Anise, you're allowed to plagiarize off of my excuse.”_

He snorted. He looked over the almost nauseating description of Magna's face after he kissed her. Did they really think she was  _that_ dopey? Her tail certainly did  _not_ wrap around his waist after that display. The lesser of two evils compared to the gossip of Anise using Mesmer magic to make him look human for secret outings and “other things”, but it was ridiculous.

Canach refused to acknowledge that the whole thing was ridiculous as he wrote Magna back, adjusting the cipher slightly so she'd have a challenge decoding it.

 


	3. 2: Out of the Shadows, the Head of the Serpent Rises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away with me. There were _a lot of scenes_ that I wanted to poke in Season 3 because Canach was the highlight of Season 3 for me. If you're a fan of Anise, you might want to lightly skim those bits, since Magna's...Magna's just _not_ a fan of her and that affects her narration. I like Anise a lot, personally, but whew, Anise just kind of...pushed all the wrong buttons with Magna.
> 
> I also had to rewrite some of Confessor's End that weren't directly Canach related since I wanted to get some nice friendship scenes with an older Demmi and Magna before the whole... _yeah_.

Magna sighed, feeling a headache coming on as she tallied up the current situation.

Pros:

  * Taimi had a good grasp of information security and knew moderately good methods to keep the Dragon Lab a secret.
  * She no longer had to do Pact business, which meant that she could sneeze without two Vigil soldiers, a Priory scholar, and three Whispers agents criticizing her for _how_ she sneezed.
  * Taimi was making headway on research that was helpful for the Dragon Operation.



Cons:

  * She had much less resources to tackle issues with due to refusing to take a desk job (she wouldn’t be a glorified aide-de-camp, thank you Soulkeeper).
  * Her father was bringing the ire of the Legions to him by refusing to respond to their summons.
  * Taimi thought that Poobah was an acceptable title of address, despite Magna insisting that Centurion or even _Commander_ would still be fine. Or, crazy thought, her  _name_.
  * Her main asset (friend? Were they friends? Magna had settled into an easy pattern with Taimi of the two of them discussing the mission, but not much else. Without ever meaning to, Magna was in a position where Taimi saw her as a superior officer of some sort. Magna wasn’t sure what to think of it, but didn’t have time to address it) was locked in asura politics and one misstep could mean that Magna would have to negotiate with Councilor Phlunt, who Magna was very sure had some kind of racism towards charr, for the research.
    * Negotiations with Phlunt was always a con. _Always_.
  * To top it all off, there was something brewing at the Bloodstone north of the Maguuma Jungle, which meant something _else_ was happening while she was trying to deal with formulating a strategy for the Elder Dragons.



There was a boom from somewhere in the main lab and Magna felt her head throb.

“That better not be another chak swarm,” Magna muttered to no one in particular.

The guards scrambled around her, muttering and _shrieking_. Magna closed her eyes, her ears twitching irritably as she put carefully pinched her the bridge of her nose.

A little asura voice screamed, “Run! It’s a crazy sylvari!”

Magna’s eyes snapped open. She formed two solid guesses as she maneuvered around the screaming asura. It was either Taliesinnia, causing havoc with that new hawk of hers or it was-

Canach stood there, stretching with an expression on his face that told her that he was not, in the slightest bit, impressed with the asuras’ reaction to him as many ran screaming in an evacuation. Phlunt tried to ask Taimi a question, but was swept away in the rush of guards.

Magna bit back a smirk, asking Canach, “What happened?”

“I came in through the caves because I couldn't find the gate. I wasn't expecting such an-” He paused, looking over at her with his eyebrows raised regally. “...enthusiastic welcome.”

“Did you see that? Phlunt was so mad, even his fleas jumped ship.” Taimi joined them, a bright smile across her face and her ears pointing upwards in what Magna was swiftly realizing was an asuran body language cue for joy. “Canach, you're my hero!”

Magna chuckled. “I’m so happy to see you that I could kiss you.” She paused, blinking and processing what she just said. There was literally _no_ reason to keep up the charade...well, no. She, admittedly, had no idea if Taimi was an informant for the Krytan Gazette. She’d been present at the last bout of affection and if they wanted people to believe their cover story, she’d have to keep it up. Rytlock definitely wasn’t the informant, but she’d have to sell him the cover story too to make any informant believe it. Regardless, her tail twitched at Canach’s and Rytlock’s inquisitive look and Taimi’s jaw dropping. “Why the surprise visit?”

Things settled back into a more normal pace as the normal banter ensued. Magna swiftly added the knowledge that Minister Caudecus—an _incredibly_ well-known anti-charr human politician—was out and about and “probably” not working with the White Mantle. The longer the conversation went on, the more Magna felt herself relax. It felt easier to give orders and get everyone moving. Magna followed Canach as he went to exit the way he came in, putting a hand on his shoulder.

She gave him a gentle headbutt as he turned around, whispering, “Sorry about that. Taimi’s on my list of suspects for the informant.”

“Ah, I had been wondering what that’d been about,” he muttered. “I was thinking that the asura were simply driving you insane.”

She snorted. “Damn near close,” Magna replied. “Taimi’s my favorite because she doesn’t feel like she has to break out the dictionary every time she has to speak.” She put a squeak into her voice, “Vacate these premises!”

He chuckled under his breath, patting her shoulder. “Did you catch the article from our little coffee date?”

“Apparently, it’s a good omen that you can guess what kind of coffee I like.” She snorted. “I feel like everyone forgets that we have history as undercover intelligence agents and saboteurs.”

“Oh, but that just means that we’re good at our jobs,” Canach replied. “Speaking of which, I should be getting back to mine.”

“Be careful out there,” she whispered. “It’d be a shame for you to get so close to your freedom only to die.”

“Oh, but that’s why I called on your help, Magna.” He smirked up at her. “If there’s anyone who can make sure I can get out of this alive, it’s the woman who pickpocketed a pocket raptor out of my pack without getting a scratch.”

She snorted, headbutting him lightly. “Still one of her worst prank ideas.”

“Top ten, easily,” Canach replied, stepping back. “Travel safely.”

“You know my luck,” Magna replied. “I’ll stumble on three Middle-Aged—not Elder, Middle-Aged—Dragons and have to mop _that_ mess up all before I leave this stupid lab. Or Talie will call me crying about having a crush on Braham and Rox at the same time and I’ll have to spend the whole airship ride trying to talk her down before she calls you and bothers you with it.”

He snorted, turning and waving as he left. She turned back into the lab, folding her hands behind her back and ignoring Taimi’s teasing in the staunchest way possible.

* * *

It wasn’t until Magna found the first crazed Shining Blade agent in the Bloodstone Fens that she considered that Canach might’ve been hit with the same odd explosion. She picked up her pace from there, hunting through the underbrush and the floating islands with a sniper’s eye. When she finally spotted him by a coliseum, she dipped her glider into a sharp dive and ignored her companions’ yells of protest.

He jumped as she landed with a loud thump and glared at her as she approached.

“You’re going to ruin the element of surprise,” he replied, frowning at her.

“Don’t care,” Magna replied, “you’re okay.” She stood there awkwardly as Taliesinnia and the rest of her squad caught up.

Taliesinnia grinned. “Aw, Magna was worried about her boyfriend!”

“I had to make sure that he wasn’t corrupted by the explosion,” Magna protested, glaring down at Taliesinnia’s happily glowing face. “It was a tactical call-”

“Dolyak shit!” Taliesinnia chirped, winking at Magna.

Magna looked over Taliesinnia, making sure that Marjory and Rytlock weren’t looking as she gave Canach a quiet plea for help. He walked over, playfully pushing Taliesinnia out of the way and wrapping his arms around Magna in a hug.

She slowly returned the hug, whispering, “You realize that she’ll be worse now, right?”

“Don’t care,” he whispered and damn him, she could tell he was smirking. “You’re okay. Okay with _blowing_ my cover and alerting my target that I’m _here_.”

“I...” She exhaled. “Sorry. I saw a crazed Shining Blade agent and thought that you might’ve been hit in the blast and I just...I’ve lost too many friends in recent years, Canach.” Magna tightened her grip a little. “I didn’t want to lose another.”

He sighed. She relaxed as he pat her back. “Fine. I’ll forgive you this once, you sentimental sap.”

* * *

It was sweet and painful to be working with Demmi again. Demmi brought too many memories of Tybalt with her, but Magna didn’t have a choice in the manner with Queen Jennah forcing the issue (and against Countess Anise’s opinion, that was _interesting._ Not as interesting as Jennah’s stance of “Oh she’ll disobey anyway. Might as well take advantage of it, Commander”, but certainly interesting). Magna suspected that Demmi had just as much success as she did when it came to moving on from Tybalt.

“You’d be making him proud,” Magna muttered as they approached the gate. “I know Anise gave you a hard time, but...well. Tybalt always did talk about ‘visiting’ your dad, with heavy air quotes and lots of explosives.”

Demmi snorted, smiling and punching Magna in the shoulder. “I would’ve given anything to see that. Speaking of Anise, why do _you_ think she’s so suspicious of me and not you? We’re both trained Whispers Lightbringers. I’ve got my own theory, but your perspective was always really enlightening.”

“My guess? Putting far too much stock in human bloodlines. Humans, especially humans in positions of nobility, do that a lot. While Queen Jennah’s been reasonable to work with and be around, other human nobles outside of the obvious exceptions? Are narrow-minded and suspicious, putting a lot more faith in blood than what’s reasonable,” Magna replied. “You, Tybalt, and I never did advertise our little makeshift Whispers warband. According to the Shining Blade asset that I’ve been speaking with, I’m an enigma wrapped in mystery, so it probably didn’t occur to Anise that by acting the way she did to you, that she was insulting _me_. I’ll be having words with her when we get back, if you’re still intending to work with the human royalty.”

“Aw, you _do_ care,” Demmi teased. “You never write, you never visit. It’s hard to tell.”

Magna smirked. “Where do you think the custom-made pistol came from? A secret admirer?”

“Oh, you’d know all about admirers, wouldn’t you,” Demmi snickered quietly. She sobered up, whispering, “He’d be happy that you were moving on, y’know.”

Magna blinked before remembering who she was talking about. “Tybalt would’ve had so many words about the fact that I keep getting into relationships with men who work with explosives. Might’ve had a joke that at least Canach can maybe regrow his hand if a bomb goes sour, even though that’s not how sylvari work.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, sneaking past jade constructs with ease. Demmi tapped Magna’s shoulder, whispering, “Speaking of him-”

“Pst, over here!” Magna and Demmi’s attentions snapped over to the source of the voice. Magna rolled her eyes, professional guard rising back to the fore as she approached Anise with Demmi.

“Countess? What are you doing here?” Demmi asked from Magna’s side, the three of them huddled in a corner. Magna felt the itch of Mesmer magic wash over them and almost snorted. Of course the Countess cheated with Mesmer tricks.

Anise shrugged, seeming too nonchalant for Magna’s tastes. “You know, I gave it some thought and decided that Canach has let Caudecus slip through his fingers before.” Magna scrunched her nose in a quick show of irritation as Anise gave her a look out of the corner of her blue eye. “I couldn't leave it to chance this time.”

Magna sighed quietly. “Then we should catch up with Canach and make _sure_ that doesn't happen then.” She noticed Anise’s eyes flick momentarily to Demmi before looking Magna in the eye. If Magna hadn’t been paying close attention, she would’ve missed it. Magna asked, “What's his position?”

Anise pressed her lips together. “That’s classified.”

“She doesn't know,” Demmi replied. Magna’s attention snapped to Demmi and Demmi put a hand on her shoulder. “I was just about to tell you when she came. The Shining Blade lost contact with Canach and his men hours ago.”

Magna felt her blood go cold and her trigger fingers itch. She glared at Anise, growling softly, “Anise, is this true? Why didn't you tell me?”

“With all due respect, _Commander_ ,” Anise replied, “I couldn’t let your priorities become...skewed by your obvious emotional attachment. In short, I was using subterfuge to make sure we stayed on course, Commander. I enjoy that sylvari's snark, but our mission is Caudecus.”

“First, you imply that Demmi would betray us to that son of a bitch, the same asshole of a father who has been a threat to her her entire life,” Magna replied, not being able to keep her words from containing a growl. “Then you accuse me of not being able to stay on course during a mission? Countess Anise-”

Anise waved a hand, narrowing her eyes at Magna. “We can waste time arguing, or we can go assess the situation.”

Magna had so many more _words_ for Anise’s whole _attitude_ (several of which she learned from an Iron Legion soldier years ago that she wouldn’t have even _considered_ saying around Demmi a few years ago), but she bit her tongue. Instead, she growled, “If Canach is harmed, I'm holding you responsible.”

Anise snorted. “This mission is bigger than one soldier, Commander Sunglare.” She turned to Demmi and waved imperiously. “Lead the way, Lady Beetlestone.”

Magna reconsidered her stance on sinking her teeth into humans. Anise seemed like a perfectly reasonable exception. This was a conclusion she was coming to from a reasonable point of view, despite what her snarling tone and more aggressive body language may tell someone else. She was calm. Reasonable.

And completely ready to sink her teeth into Countess Anise’s stupidly manicured right hand.

Magna kept her dread in check as they quietly dispatched White Mantle forces. She had to keep herself from flashing back to the mission where she lost her first warband as they found the tortured and dead bodies of Canach’s men.

She nearly jumped when Demmi touched her bicep gently. She looked down at Demmi, who gave her an apologetic smile.

“Mag-Lightbringer,” she whispered, “I'm sorry I didn't mention Canach and his men earlier. I have a million things swirling in my head-”

“Demmi, it’s fine,” Magna whispered, shaking her head and patting Demmi’s hand. “You're on a mission to eliminate your own father. I think it can be forgiven.”

“It's that, but also...” Demmi trailed off, biting her lip. “If we come across Valette Wi, please let me try to talk to her.” She sighed. “She's my friend...and family.”

“Of course,” Magna replied. She leaned down, gently giving Demmi a headbutt in full view of Anise and not giving a damn at those perfect human eyebrows raising skeptically at the display. Magna muttered, “Any family of yours is family of mine, Demmi. She’s human, about your height, hair maybe less warm brown than yours, right?”

“Did your homework,” Demmi replied, chuckling.

“And that’s why I was one of the best Lightbringers around and don’t you forget it,” Magna teased. She gently nudged Demmi’s forehead again. “If you vouch for her, I’ll do what I can to make sure she gets the second chance she deserves.”

“How hopeful the young are,” Anise drawled. Magna bit back a growl. “She's beyond your reach, child. She's a traitor and a criminal. She'll get no respite here.”

Demmi stepped around Magna, glaring at Anise. “You'll have to go through me-”

Magna’s ear twitched as she heard other voices. Snippy, lilted White Mantle voices. “Sh,” Magna whispered. “Do you both hear that?” She gently put a hand on Demmi’s shoulder.

The three of them grew silent. Magna picked out the words from the silence, “Bring in the last one. This man has confessed; he's no longer in need of his tongue.”

Demmi pat Magna’s hand, stepping forward and whispering, “Here. I can pick the lock.”

Magna followed her, paying no mind to Anise. Was it petty? Oh, that Magna could admit. But the Countess was doing little to nothing positive to contribute to the mission (Magna knew for a fact that she and Demmi didn’t _need_ Anise’s Mesmer tricks to get through these idiots. Magna could sneak through the most guarded areas of the Iron Citadel unaided and she’d been the one to teach Demmi at least half of her tricks) and had spent most of it either implying insult or directly insulting the people Magna held dear. Her already low opinion of the Countess was going down the more time spent with the little harpy.

She fell into easy rhythm with Demmi, sneaking through the tunnel. They came upon a small burrow dug out into a makeshift room, cages lining the walls.

She saw a human man in a ridiculous outfit (more ridiculous than the pompous ribbons and masquerade-wear that the rest of the White Mantle wore) in the center of it all and he spoke in cheerfully deluded tones, “All must confess! Be freed of the burden of your secrets before we free you of your life!”

Scanning the room, Magna saw two guards manhandling a struggling Canach. Without missing a beat, she took one of her pistols and shot one of the guards right between the eyes.

Without missing a beat, Canach smirked and replied, “Thank you, but I'll show myself out!” He kicked the other guard in the knee, leaping over him and smashing the man’s face into the ground.

Magna lept into the fray. “Canach!” Once she had his attention, she tossed him her offhand pistol. He caught it with ease.

“Hello, Commander,” Canach drawled. “If you'd be so kind as to help me kill the rest of these cretins.”

Magna smirked. “With pleasure.”

After months of fighting together in the Maguuma Jungle, the two of them didn’t even have to put much thought into fighting together. Canach knew that Magna had a bad habit of not watching her right side and filled in for that, shooting enemies that tried to abuse that bad habit of hers. Magna knew Canach liked getting up close to enemies, so she’d loop her free arm with his and give him a boost in momentum that left much of the White Mantle combatants frazzled and (ultimately) dead. Between their instinctual whirlwind of death, Demmi’s swift “application” of venom, swordplay, and bullets, and Anise’s Mesmer trickery, everyone fell dead very, _very_ swiftly.

Once everyone was dead, Demmi asked, “That all of them?” She looked around, sighing. “Looks clear...” She blinked as she watched Magna swiftly holster her pistol in a manner that seemed uncharacteristically sloppy. Demmi watched her old mentor whirl about and charge Canach, who was smugly perched on top of the dead High Inquisitor and seemed to be reveling in the feeling of having the bastard’s throat under his foot.

He turned when he heard her coming, turning just in time to be swept up in Magna’s hug. His sylvari ridges were glowing a bit brighter than usual as she let loose post-fight adrenaline laughter and headbutt him. “Good to see you, Commander,” he chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and patting it. “Hopefully we can finally finish this and I can be out from under that horrible woman's thumb.” He looked over Magna’s shoulder, smirking at Anise. He drawled, “Oh, hi, Anise. I didn't see you standing completely within my line of sight.”

Anise rolled her eyes as Magna put him down. The Countess drawled, “To think I almost missed you.”

Canach handed Magna her offhand pistol back and she put it back into its holster (ignoring Demmi’s inquisitive stare—probably remembering when Magna went off on a poor Whispers initiate for touching that same pistol. Demmi didn’t know that if there was anyone Magna could trust with her pistols, it was Canach). Canach went over to a crate, digging through confiscated Shining Blade gear. He pulled out his signature armor, quickly donning it.

When he was done, Demmi stepped forward. “Have you seen my father—Caudecus?”

Canach answered as he was inspecting his chain-sword, making sure it wasn’t tangled from the untrained treatment it’d gotten. Magna knew that sword was trickier than it looked. “Brutish man with aggressively unsettling facial hair? Yes. He seemed upset that he wasn't on the Krytan throne...to the extent that he was-” Canach paused, looking up at Demmi with a pained expression. “Is he really your father? I'm so sorry.”

Demmi shook her head, firmly professional. Magna felt a spike of pride watching that. “What was he doing?”

“Well...he was consuming bloodstone his lackeys gathered from the explosion.” Canach scratched the back of his neck, his face grim. “He might be unrecognizable to you, my dear.”

“I stopped recognizing him as my father long ago,” Demmi replied, sneaking a glance at Magna. “We should move before he turns his scorn toward civilians. He'd rather see Kryta burn than not rule it.”

“Then we should get moving,” Magna replied. “Canach, are you fit to fight?”

He recovered his smirk in record time, which told Magna that he was _fine_. “Yes, ma’am.”

“...we’re adding ma’am to the No list for pet names,” Magna groaned, shaking her head and leading the way through the tunnels.

* * *

“Thwarted by another locked door. Maybe you'll lend me your foot key again, Commander?”

Magna snorted, leaning down and gently touching the lock with one of her claws. “Sure... _or_ we could try something that _won't_ alert the whole manor we're here...”

She silently picked the lock, smirking up at Canach as the door swung open silently. He huffed, near pouting. “Hm. But the foot key is _so_ satisfying.”

“Didn’t you tell me off for lack of stealth the other day?” Magna asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

“My dear Magna, we need to have a serious talk about _style_.”

* * *

The confrontation with Caudecus was a blur. Things went from okay to meh to worse faster than Magna could’ve predicted. If Canach hadn’t placed himself conveniently in Magna’s path, he was fairly certain that he’d be dealing with a maimed Anise on top of everything else (it didn’t take a Mesmer to see that Magna had _some_ emotional connection to both the Beetlestone girl and Valette).

He lightly bapped Magna’s nose with a finger and she stared at him, her orange eyes almost _glowing_ with rage. He held her gaze calmly until she snorted, taking a step back and standing down from her original warpath.

Her attention snapped to Valette as she hiccupped, the human girl wringing her hands together in a way that reminded Magna of Demmi’s nervous habits. Canach caught sight of Magna’s hard glare soften and stepped to the side.

Magna approached Valette, gently wrapping an arm around the girl’s shoulders. Valette leaned against Magna, face full of tears. She said, “I never meant...I never meant for this to happen.” She looked up at Magna. Valette wiped her face swiftly, quicking adopting a determined look. “I can get you to him. I'll get you to that monster so you can put. Him. _Down_. So _we_ can put him down.”

Anise scoffed and Canach quietly swore under his breath. The Countess replied, “So you can betray us while we fight? What do I look like?”

“A hag,” Magna muttered under her breath.

Valette hiccupped and Magna rubbed her back gently. Valette put her hands together in front of her stomach, one of her hands rubbing at the crook of her elbow. “I just want to balance this ledger. Then I'll gladly accept whatever fate you see fit.”

Magna spoke up, biting back a smirk, “Anise, you said Caudecus was our target. Surely, this is more important than one soldier?”

Anise narrowed her eyes and glared at Magna. Then she sighed, deflating from her imperious attitude. “So be it.”

* * *

The inner sanctum was sure... _something_.

Canach nudged Magna’s shoulder as they took it all in. “How do you think the conversation with the sculptor went when he ordered these?”

Magna hummed, then shifted her vocal pitch to be more similar to Caudecus’s shrieking earlier. “I need at least six reliefs of my face. No, no, _bigger_. Like eight feet tall.”

Canach snorted, picking up from where she left off. “Something that really captures my essence: a catastrophically misguided, swagger-sodden plague sore!”

* * *

“Seriously?” Magna asked. “Nobody understands this riddle?”

“No, dear,” Canach replied, rolling his eyes as she threw her hands up in the air.

She repeated the riddle, “You throw away the outside and cook the inside. Then you eat the outside and throw away the inside. What did you eat?” She looked at them all incredulously. “It’s _child’s_ play, _burn me_ , do human schools not teach like fahrars do?”

“Not human, dear,” Canach replied. He’d been the only one to answer her melodrama, with Anise rolling her eyes and simply waiting for Magna to get on with everything and Valette watching with wide eyes at Magna pacing back and forth through the room like a charr gone mad.

Magna snorted. “Okay, you get a pass since sylvari don’t have a formalized education system.” She gestured, Valette following her gestures. “Okay, so he gives you answers to choose from. By typical human education standardized testing, he’s trying to trick the intruding party into thinking there’s only _one_ answer. But then there’s two answers and he wants you to get all frazzled trying to figure out which one is the absolute, perfect answer, but there is _none_. The two correct answers to the riddle are corn and chicken: it’s all mind games when he tries to make you choose one or the other, but both are _perfectly_ acceptable answers.”

“So if I pick corn, you won’t throw a tantrum over me not reading more heavily into his demented mind games than that?” Canach asked, slowly reaching towards the corn.

“Go ahead,” Magna replied. “It doesn’t matter as long as you pick corn or chicken.”

Canach touched the corn, rolling his eyes. “Great. Then we can stop your showing off-”

Caudecus’s voice filled the room as the answers swapped to different objects, “I have a head like a cat. I have feet like a cat. But I am dumber than a cat.”

Magna clapped her hands together and Canach _laughed_ at her exasperated expression.

“It’s charr, isn’t it?” Canach asked.

“I’m skinning his racist ass alive,” Magna grumbled.

* * *

A week later, Magna sat in a nondescript graveyard in Divinity’s Reach. She waited for night time, shifting from sitting to actively hiding from the guards. When the coast was clear, Magna found Demmi’s grave and sat besides it.

“I’m sorry that I wasn’t around more often,” Magna replied. “I’m going to make up for that, now. A visit like this, every time I’m in the city.” She leaned, gently headbutting the headstone. “Burn me, I’m going to _miss_ you, Demmi. I’m sorry that I let that bastard kill you. You had a bright future ahead of you that you fought tooth and nail for and he snuffed it.”

“You need a lookout, Magna?”

Magna sat up, jumping to all fours with her tail straight up in the air. She relaxed, seeing it was Canach. She wiped her face with the back of her hand, not looking at him.

“...I’d like that, Canach. Thank you.”

He walked up, gently pulling her down to his height to gently headbutt her. He pat her shoulder. “Anytime.” He stepped back, turning and standing guard as she silently cried over her friend’s grave.

* * *

Canach was enjoying his newfound freedom in the Gendarran Fields when Magna’s latest letter reached him. In it, he saw the latest article about him and the Commander, along with Magna’s annotations.

_IS COMMANDER SUNGLARE GETTING HER QUOTA OF HUGS?_

_We at the Gazette have been concerned about Pact Commander Magna Sunglare for a long time. Having left the Pact, we were more concerned than ever that the surly charr was isolating herself from the world. However, we received an anonymous tip from a trusted source that Commander Sunglare may be leaving the Pact, but not from social interactions entirely. Indeed, we were told that Sunglare has been cuddlier than ever with her associate, the Bane of Southsun and Consortium-Enemy-Number-One, Canach. We wonder if the two are going to run into the sunset together, now that the two have had their organizational ties neatly cut._

In Magna’s neat handwriting (and using his modified cipher, he noted with some smugness), she wrote, _“I. Am. So. Tempted.”_ She wrote other pleasantries (asking him how he was, if he needed any gold, what he was planning on doing [“I’m asking this here because I figured you didn’t want to answer truthfully within earshot of that ~~bitch~~ ~~harpy~~ horrible woman”], and other things of care and concern parading as professional tact), but Canach was too amused at her temptation at deserting her obligations with her new guild and running into the wilderness with him to spend too much time processing her phatic utterances.

He picked up his quill, writing back, _“If you need an escape from all of your business, I’ll be doing mercenary freelance work in the Sparkfly Fen. Perhaps we can make a public spectacle of something there to help you unwind?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read through this chapter in one sitting, I applaud you, but please go get some water if you haven't been hydrating while reading.
> 
> Next chapter's gonna be a bit more freeform since Magna's going to be narratively free for the next couple episodes. Magna and Talie tag-team Flashpoint, but Talie is solo-ing One Path Ends since the two of them go different directions in their search for Balthazar. Talie (correctly) guesses that maybe going to humans about human gods would be a smart move, but Magna goes an entirely different direction by trying to track Balthazar through conflict itself. So she goes to meet up with Canach because ~~she missed him~~ if they're hiring mercs over there, surely _something_ must be afoot.


	4. 3: Rifles

“You Canach?”

Canach looked up from cleaning his sword to see a nervous looking blonde charr standing there. “Sometimes, when it suits me,” Canach replied. “Why?”

“I’ve got a message from Rytlock Brimstone,” the charr replied. “If you’re not Canach, can you direct me-”

“I _am_ Canach,” he sighed. “You charr, never can take a joke.” He held out a hand for the charr and the charr deposited the message. Canach tipped the poor kid a few silver—they looked so small, were they _just_ out of the fahrar? It was like dealing with a new sapling—and let them leave. He opened the wax seal, reading the message.

_Canach,_

_Just came from a_ _meeting_ _talk with Magna. Thought you two had been faking, fooling everybody for some kind of entertainment, but Magna’s told me that your...relationship with her is real._

Canach raised an eyebrow. Lying to her father? Canach knew that Magna was dedicated to keeping covers up for undercover missions (the story of how she helped turn the Molten Alliance into a scrapyard was one of his favorites—if he remembered correctly, she’d kept up appearances as a Flame Legion serving girl for months all while stealing important documents and starting a rebellion amongst the women of the station she was working at), but that seemed to be extreme. Especially since it wasn’t hard to guess that it took a _lot_ of effort to get Rytlock “Stubborn Fleabag” Brimstone to believe a lie.

How did she do it? Was it a carefully spun story, told over ale in her father’s office? Was it an emotional outburst, shouting at the top of her lungs that her love was real, thank you sire, please go kindly choke on your own furballs? Maybe with an emotionally vulnerable look in her normally guarded expression as she rambled on about their emotional bond? Waxing poetically about their chemistry on the battleground and off of it?

Why was he imagining this so vividly? It didn’t matter—he’d ask Magna the next time he saw her or one of her small, trained carrier griffons.

_So, if it’s really real, I need to give you a copy of the Magna Manual._

Canach muttered to himself under his breath, “The _what_.”

 _I didn’t name it or even start it—her bandmate Reeva did. She gave me a copy when I started to get more involved in Magna’s life. It’s grown some, Taliesinnia and I have added to it and now it’s your turn. I thought it was ridiculous when I first got it, but_ _my cub_ _Magna needs looking after. Doesn’t seem like it, but just...just read the bloody manual and you’ll see what I mean._

Canach snorted. This should be good.

In an unfamiliar scrawl (unmistakably charr handwriting, but the letter formation seemed more on what he’d expect on blueprints than any other document) was written:

 

  * _The wound-up screw will only eat, naturally, once every two days. This makes her a good agent on a mission, especially long term with limited rations, but she needs more food than that._


  * _Even on the described missions, she will give up rations for others. Let her do this within fragging reason._


  * _For the record, I love Magna. Favorite bandmate of all time and not just because she’s one of my only original bandmates that’s still alive. But please, for your own safety, never-ever-ever-ever-ever touch her pistols. It’s the fastest way to make her the Worst Charr Alive of All Time. She gets grouchy and I mean. I can’t BLAME her, she built those pistols from her own blood, sweat, tears, and pay from over a year. I’m a fragging Iron Legion-certified engineer and her oldest bandmate, I knew her when she was the fragging runt of the fahrar with a big mouth and doofy fangs, and she won’t even let me—me, Reeva the Cleava, keeper of her secrets and her favorite sparring mate—touch her fragging pistols._



 

In Taliesinnia’s loopy cursive handwriting, Canach saw that she annotated a small _“Please listen to Reeva on this, it’s only because I got lucky that she didn’t take off my hand as a knee jerk reaction to me touching her pistols.”_

Canach snorted, humming. “She lets me touch them,” he muttered. “Interesting. Perhaps the information is out of date?”

  * _Don’t let her fool you, Magna’s blind. Her eyes are fine, burn me, I’d even say that they’re supernaturally good. But she’s blind when it comes to people holding positive attention about her. No matter how many times you tell her, she’ll always act like it’s the biggest surprise that people like her on a personal level. She expects it on a professional level, takes pride in it, but you try telling this girl that her bandmate’s just as besotted with her as she is with him? It’s like trying to dig through 20 ft. of solid iron with only your claws. I know, probably hard to believe since she reads people like most people read books. That’s Ash Legion training and she can only use it to read how people feel about things that aren’t her. Magna holds a personal belief that the most she can expect out of people is a neutral opinion of her personality. Our Primus wasn’t exactly the best when it came to Magna._


  * _Magna takes her Ash Legion training like humans take religion. Makes her really good to have in military and mission emergencies, keeps her calm and clear, but when there’s trouble off the field? It makes her the worst. Gotta drag pain out of her like rust out of a canon. She’ll keep her pain right in her chest until she dies, if you let her. S’not healthy—make her talk because, honest, she’s secretly wanting to talk, but won’t for some reason. Put the offer on the table, aggressively poke her about it every so often, and just wait._



 In Rytlock’s scrawl, the list continued:

  * _Burn me, she inherited my stubbornness._


  * _She’ll only sleep for four hours during a mission. If it’s tactically sound, make her sleep more._



 Taliesinnia added a sub-point below Rytlock’s second point:

  * _She sometimes has nightmares. Don’t ask about the names she says in her sleep. She’ll..._ _probably_ _talk about it. Eventually. Maybe..._ ~~ _I hope so_~~



Rytlock’s choppy notes came back, accompanied by very faint bloodstains:

  * _No rifles. Ever._



Canach stopped reading, huffing quietly as he folded the letter shut. He put it in his pack, muttering, “Why did they think it was a good idea to give an ex-fugitive _rules_? Don’t they know that I’m just going to break them now out of spite?”

* * *

Almost like she sensed that he was going to come looking for her, Magna showed up in the Sparkfly Fen almost two days after he got that letter. She looked tense enough that if he tried to swing a board of wood at her, it’d break on impact into neat pieces. The Pact soldiers that he’d been working with scattered on her arrival, all trying to appear incredibly busy despite the fact that she wasn’t their superior officer anymore. Perhaps it was as Taliesinnia had said, all that time ago in the Maguuma Jungle, “Once a mother, always a mother.”

He approached her, a standard Pact-issued rifle slung along his back under his shield. “Magna, would it be bold to assume that you’ve come to take me up on my offer?”

She snorted, eyes meeting his almost sluggishly. “Partially. Gonna need some privacy to get you the whole story.”

“Does the whole story include kisses?” Canach asked. “I’ve been missing those.”

Magna snorted again, quieter this time. She leaned down, giving him a gentle headbutt and a very brief kiss on the cheek. Magna pulled back and gave a small smirk at the light glow from his sylvari ridges. “Isn’t it a bit early for you to be glowing?” she teased, gently pushing him out of the main thoroughfare they’d been standing in.

“Your eyes are just sharper than most,” he quietly huffed. He lead her to a quiet part of the camp, somewhere he’d taken to going to avoid the more social parts of working at a Pact camp. The two of them scanned the area, checking over for Mesmer tricks and eavesdroppers before relaxing their guard a hair.

“What have you heard?” Magna muttered quietly.

“Since I last heard from you?” he asked. “I’ve heard that your guild has Primordus and Jormag to take care of and that there’s a norn faction that could make that difficult. Oh, and that the Krytan Gazette’s popular in this camp, hence the whole kissing line-”

“Braham’s leading that norn faction,” Magna answered in a whisper. At his baffled expression, she sighed and ran some of her claws through her hair.

“How is Taliesinnia taking that?” he asked. “I can’t imagine that she’s taking it _well_.”

“She cried for three hours into my fur the next time I saw her after her trip in the Bitterfrost Frontier,” Magna answered. “Apparently, she did her normal rush through everything in an attempt to hold everything together routine and Braham, in a fit of hypocrisy, got angry at her for her brashness. He found no reason to be angry at our lack of information and attempts to utilize said information _before_ , but now he’s angry about it not being _his_ way. From what I can tell and from Rox’s reports, they’re both stressed and dealing with it in their own ways, just so happening to hurt each other in the process.”

“Dealing with emotionally immature young people on top of two Elder Dragons? No wonder you seem so tired,” Canach replied. “I would have smacked them both.”

“Don’t let Taliesinnia know that you know,” she replied. “I needed to vent about it, but she didn’t want you to know because, I quote, I don’t want him to think I’m weak.”

“If that’s what she thinks is the biggest threat of me knowing, she doesn’t have a good idea of my reactions to things like this,” Canach replied, raising an eyebrow.

“I told her that it was likely that you’d plant a small explosive on Braham. Not enough to kill him, but enough to give him a nasty surprise,” Magna replied, chuckling. “Then that you’d deny doing it at all.” She gave him a wide, tired smirk as he narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Well, now I’m going to have to do something _different_ so that I won’t be predictable,” he grumbled.

He did his best to settle into his normal frown, but his expression kept slipping as her smirk turned into a smug, satisfied smile. He felt concern tug at him as her smile slipped and she started to stare tiredly into the sky.

Canach asked, “That’s not all you’ve been dealing with, has it?”

She sighed, closing her eyes and resting her forehead in the palm of her hand. “We’ve got a human god on the loose too.”

“...I’m sorry, we have a _what_ on the loose?”

“You remember,” Magna answered, “how Caudecus’s notes implied that Lazarus wasn’t truly Lazarus?”

He stared at her incredulously until she opened her eyes and met his stare with tired, yet calm eyes. He answered slowly, “A human god was masquerading as a mursaat.”

“Yes.”

“Using the White Mantle for some purpose.”

“Yes. He wanted to kill Primordus and Jormag using a device Taimi made, all while absorbing their magic so he could go kill more dragons. Talie and I stopped him, but he’s run off somewhere to probably try again with another Elder Dragon.”

Canach exhaled slowly, pinching his nose bridge. “Magna, _how_ do you manage to find every fucked up situation in this world? Taliesinnia, she I can understand. She’s been pushed by damn near everyone, the Pale Tree, the Firstborn, and _technically_ Mordremoth into this whole scheme. But you don’t have that pressure. So, _why_ are you here?”

Magna snorted, her voice taking a bitterly amused tone. “Because, burn me Canach, this is _my_ world too! I might not have had a mother pushing me into the whole affair with a mystical dream, but I chose and will always  _choose_ this fight. I haven’t gotten to choose many things in life, but I choose to fight this fight for our world because I _live in it_.” Magna huffed. “Technically, I think it’s all your fault that I’m still alive.”

Canach blinked. “What.”

“Taliesinnia told Trahearne that one of her new friends that was an agent of a human intelligence network,” Magna replied. “Trahearne got worried that Anise was going to try to influence the Pact through Talie through you, so he got me to shadow Taliesinnia to try to prevent that. If I hadn’t been shadowing Taliesinnia, I would have been on the Pact ships flying into the Maguuma Jungle. I most likely would have died trying to save Trahearne in a fight that I wouldn’t have been able to _win_ ” Magna shrugged, looking away from him. “Funny how life works sometimes, huh?”

“But you were able to win against him, in the end,” Canach replied, cupping his chin with his pointer finger and his thumb. “If you had been there sooner-”

“I wouldn’t have had backup,” Magna replied, shaking her head. “Mordremoth would’ve taken advantage of my pain and used that against me and I wouldn’t have had a fuckin’ _stubborn_ sylvari and a loud norn to shake me out of it.”

Canach snorted. “Lovely, I had simply thought you were insane at the time for taking a possible security threat into a large battle like that, but in reality you were gambling on my stubbornness.”

“It wasn’t a gamble,” Magna replied, looking back at him. “I knew from the moment I heard that sylvari were having trouble with Mordremoth in their minds that you weren’t going to be one of them. I had a list of sylvari that I knew I could trust, no matter what, and none of you proved me wrong.” At Canach’s blink, she gave him a warm smile, gesturing sharply with her hands as she spoke as if giving a formal military report. “I put faith in you and the others on that list to give hope to those that were struggling and you and the others performed beyond my wildest expectations with that. Even Caithe and Trahearne, who Taliesinnia swore up and down were the strongest sylvari she knew, fell to Mordremoth’s machinations. You, for instance, _knew_ the yoke of slavery, of someone pulling your strings—you were never a threat from that front. You were a threat for being a handsome agent of an outside intelligence network, not for something that you were born to and couldn’t help.”

“You mean you brought me to the fight against Mordremoth-”

“Because you were the sylvari that the world needed to see,” Magna replied. “Not a perfect Firstborn, not the illustrious Pact Commander, but a sylvari who has thrown off the control of others again and again. The world needed to see a sylvari take down Mordremoth. I couldn’t take Caithe because she’d already proven that while she was competent with a large variety of enemy combatants, she was someone who had fallen to Mordemoth before and almost cost us Aurene for it. I couldn’t take Talie because if I fell, the Pact needed a Commander and she had almost fallen to Mordremoth herself.”

“How? When?” Canach asked, swearing under his breath. “I had been watching her closely for such behavior-”

“I don’t know when,” Magna answered. “I just know what she told me. It’s how we came to the conclusion that I would lead the final assault against Mordremoth while she would run interference and defense.”

Canach sighed through gritted teeth. “Is that why the two of you are split up now? Offense and defense?”

Magna shook her head. “We both had different ideas about how to track our god problem,” she answered. “She’s going to priests and human sources while I’m trying to find him in his element.”

“You said his,” Canach replied. “So I can guess that our rogue god is either Grenth or Balthazar, which fits why you’re here. With Tequatl coming back for his annual temper tantrum, both death and war are here in spades.”

“It’s Balthazar,” Magna muttered. She sat on a nearby stump and stared into the middle distance. He sat at the base of the stump, putting his pack next to him. He leaned against the stump, looking at the orange sky above them as the sun set.

They sat in somewhat tense silence. Canach assumed she was putting her thoughts in order and decided to let her, taking the rifle off of his back and settling it into his lap. He started to mimic her pistol maintenance routine with it, taking it apart methodically and cleaning pieces of it with a cloth from his pack.

“You know,” Magna replied, “back in the fahrar, there was a game we used to play.”

He put her in the corner of his eye, listening as he fiddled with the firing mechanism. “Oh? Was it truth or dare, but without the truth of it?”

“That’s one of them, but not the one I was thinking of,” Magna chuckled. “It was a boasting game. You could only play it once with the same group of people, because if you played it with the same people, it got boring and predictable and cubs would steal each others’ answers. My warband looked down on plagiarism, so we tried to switch up who we’d play with. Since I was a better speaker than our leader, Howl, I was always my warband’s representative in the game.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest. I can imagine you, tiny with fangs that you haven’t grown in yet, talking the slippers off a tribune,” Canach replied, slowly cleaning used up powder out of the barrel of the rifle. “So what was the game? Just boasting or something specific?”

“You were given a hypothetical situation where you and your warband only had 6 hours left to live-”

“And everyone wonders why charr are so violent and morbid,” Canach replied. He smirked lightly as she used her knee to nudge him in the shoulder and he flicked the side of her leg in retaliation. “Go on, you’ll never stop me from quips.”

Magna snorted. “So, you and your warband have 6 hours left to live and you have full clearance to pick any target with all kinds of resources at your disposal, along with the backing of all the Legions. You’re supposed to come up with a good answer. A popular one was King Adelburn, with Gaheron Baelfire coming in close second. They hated me around the fahrar for being able to come up with a better answer.”

“Oh? This I have to hear.”

“I always answered with Balthazar,” Magna answered. “Because if he truly was their god of war, he was the one supporting human military operations. Get rid of him and you’d get rid of their crutch, which in theory could weaken the human ghosts plaguing Ascalon and would be a direct demonstration to Flame Legion that their efforts were useless: one of his spheres of influence is fire and it was no secret that Gaheron wanted to become a god of flame.”

Canach snorted. “So you think you jinxed your way into having to deal with Balthazar.”

“Mmmmhmmm,” Magna hummed. “I have no one to blame but myself.”

“In that case,” Canach replied, closing up the rifle. He put it on her lap and she blinked down at him. “We’re going to disobey your father and give you another tool to help you make good on your promise.”

Magna held the rifle gently, as if he had given her a fragile treasure. Her pupils were blown up to adorably comedic effect, looking along the rifle. She blinked, looking down at him with her pupils narrowing slightly. “Wait. What do you mean, disobeying my sire?”

Canach smiled innocently. “You, apparently, have a caretaking manual. One of the things in that manual, written by your father’s scrawl, is that you’re not allowed rifles.” He stood up, putting his hands on his hips. “I think that’s dolyak shit. I’ve seen you perform miracles with pistols and your skill with spearguns is acceptable. Giving you a longer range weapon would be a good idea, especially since I can make a safe assumption that your newest problem rather likes swords.”

“Slow down,” Magna replied. “I have a _caretaking manual_?”

Canach couldn’t help but _laugh_.

* * *

“The sky is darkening. Tequatl the Sunless must be near.”

Canach steadied himself, looking over his shoulder. Magna was with the ranged combatants, thankfully behaving. She had the rifle he had given her strung along her back, her pistols in her hands as she scanned the coast with a careful eye. Her gaze fell upon him looking at her and he gave her a nod. She returned it, seeming to relax a hair. He turned back to the coast, waiting.

Eventually, a quaggan came running from the water, screaming for help. The fight broke loose as Tequatl’s stinking, corpse-like body pounced onto the beach, roaring. Canach gave cover to those going to the hylek canons, deflecting necromantic goo with his shield. The fight dragged on, with cycles and phases that he’d been briefed on prior to the fight (without Zhaitan, it seemed like Tequatl was a programmed creature of habit). Comrade after comrade fell, but they were giving as good as they got as sections of Tequatl’s skin and muscle were sliced, ripped, and shot to pieces.

Canach noticed a pattern. Tequatl seemed to focus more on Magna—a lingering hatred from Zhaitan, perhaps? More of the fingers threatened her than anyone else on the battlefield and he found himself slowly maneuvering to join her.

“We need to end this,” he shouted. “Quickly!”

“No shit!” she shouted back, rolling out of the way of a finger’s strike. “You have a plan?”

“A rifle round in the head might do the trick.” He grunted as he cut down another finger, maneuvering the segments of his blade into a blender for them.

“Canach, I only just learned how to successfully fire this thing without unintended people being hurt, there’s no way-”

He shifted, leaping to block a shot from her right. “Now, Magna!”

He focused on keeping Risen off of her. He didn’t see her pull it off of her back, but he recognized the sound of a rifle going off. He looked to Tequatl, seeing it now with a new hole in its head as it roared. It flopped onto the ground. Dead.

He didn’t have time to turn as he was swept into a very familiar hug. He relaxed into it, leaning back into her as she laughed with delight clear in her voice. What remained of their fellows cheered, with the hylek chanting “Sunbringer” again and again.

But Canach found himself focusing on the childlike giggling that Commander Magna Sunglare, Centurion of Ash, Whispers Lightbringer, Dragonslayer, and Former Pact Commander, was doing into his ear.

“You were _right_ ,” she laughed, resting her head on his shoulder.

He hummed, smirking. “The sooner you learn that I am _always_ right, the sooner we can take out any opponent, darling.”

* * *

_SUNGLARE’S LOVE BRINGS BACK THE SUN_

_Commander Sunglare and her newest flame, Canach, were spotted helping Pact soldiers and local hylek tribes take down Tequatl in his yearly attempt to take over the Sparkfly Fens. The two were a force to be reckoned with, with informants seeing why the two continue to work well together on and off the battlefield. We’ve been told that the Commander even took orders from her companion, possibly hinting at a reversal in power dynamics off the battlefield._

_At the celebration, the two were notably physically close, with Commander Sunglare falling asleep on Canach’s lap, sprawled out like a domestic cat. Artist representation below._

Magna looked at the drawing, heat flooding her face under her fur. One of her carrier griffons landed on the back of her chair and put its front legs on her shoulder, chirping a soft greeting and purring when Magna absentmindedly pet under its chin.

“Cider, why are they like this?” she asked the griffon, looking over at it. “Someone _sketched_ that incident and _sent it in_ . The linework is excellent, but burn me, Canach’s face doesn’t _do_ that expression. If that man’s capable of doe eyes, then I can kill Balthazar no problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAHA WELL YOU SEE MAGNA HONEY
> 
> Yeah, Magna's a Deadeye. I've always figured Canach to be a Warrior, who by default have the ability to use rifles, so it felt really super fitting for him to teach Magna the basics of how to use rifles with the shadow magic and cantrips coming later. Originally, Rytlock himself was gonna come and do his bits of what became the Magna Manual, but then I was also torn between having Reeva show up and do similarly as well as have a section with Talie giving Magna tips. The Manual seemed like a nice compromise because Magna is a tireless worker which is a blessing and a curse. Will do lots for everyone around her, then do exactly 0 things for herself. Canach is here to say dolyak shit to that.


	5. 4-A: We Ride on the Path of Fire, Facing the Empty Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may notice, if you're reading this story as it updates, that the chapter number has gone from 6 to 7. This is because I had to split PoF events in half. Because a _lot_ happens in the earlier stages of PoF and the word count for this chapter was obscenely long (I reached about 4k words? and said "nope". I split the chapter in half for people like me, who read chapter by chapter by phone, so that they could hold their place for when they open the link on their computer).
> 
> Some context notes because there's not enough room in this fic to explain:
> 
> -I use "molly" as a charr variant of "bitch", similarly to how Reeva was using engineer-based swearing in her entries in the Magna Manual. Female cats are referred to as "molly", "queen", or "dam" and I'd already used "dam" in universe to mean mother for pun purposes. There could be some inter-Legion differentiation on this front, with Blood Legion using "queen" instead for a double entendre insult towards the human queen (as Blood Legion is, notably, not super _happy_ about ending the war with the humans, but doesn't make a stink of it because Ash and Iron are more or less holding them in a strong arm hold on the matter).
> 
> -I do something that the game doesn't have the tech for with regards to the Charr Commander and have warband names be more or less universal as a branding mechanism and a way to tell what soldier belongs with what unit. All of Magna's warband members have "Sun" somewhere in their surname: Reeva "the Cleava" Suncleave, Yahuk Sunstrike (originally Fellstrike), and Wroda "the Quick" Sunblade.
> 
> -Weird shit happens with Vlast and it'd be too much of a detour in this fic to explain it all here in the way that it deserves. The short version? Taliesinnia is Aurene's champion, Magna is Vlast's. This was discovered in a sort of "champion-at-first-sight" moment during the initial confrontation with Balthazar where you normally first meet him in-PoF, where Magna managed a series of sniper shots with bullets made out of nasty shit Abaddon left behind when he died. Between Magna and Vlast, Balthazar dubbed the whole affair a waste of time and left with a threat to come back. Magna and Vlast are, more or less, protective big sibling buddies. There'll be more on them in a future fic, but that gives you the context to understand what goes down in the second half of this chapter.
> 
> Can you believe Kasmeer is what delayed this chapter? I never got to play through Living World Season 1, so I have _no_ idea how her lie detection powers work. In season 3, it just seems she's a super-deducer like Tattletale from Worm, but then the wiki mentioned something about making people _glow_ when they lied? Eventually after a lot of digging through the wiki, I said fuckit and Kas is now super soft femme lesbian Lying Cat. That's who she is now and forever.
> 
> This chapter's a bit of an emotional roller-coaster, so make sure you've got water and strap in.

“Here.”

Canach blinked, seeing the device in Magna’s outstretched hand. “A communicator?”

“I had Taimi make it,” Magna answered. He looked up and her eyes were soft, her ears almost flat against her head, and he was fairly certain her tail was wrapped around her leg. It was the closest he’d ever seen her to nervous, not since she offered him a spot in Dragon’s Watch. “Unlike mine, it’s got an on and off button, so you can turn it off whenever you want.”

“Commander, are you outfitting all of your guild with these?” he asked, frowning. “Because if so, I thought I was quite clear that I wanted to be my own-”

“Canach, this is not a leash,” Magna answered. “I will not call and summon you. This is explicitly so if you get in trouble and want help, you can call me. And no, I am not outfitting all of Dragon’s Watch with these.” She closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose carefully (he wondered if she ever accidentally stabbed herself with her claws). “I’d have to talk to Taliesinnia about that because I’d have to set very firm rules as to what these could be used for because, I can imagine, nobody wants to wake up to Taliesinnia _singing_ lovesick ballads at them from across Tyria where they can’t make her stop by gagging her.” She opened her eyes again and still that soft look was within them and it almost made him squirm. “Braham might accidentally turn his on during a belching contest. Rox, Kasmeer, and Marjory I can trust somewhat, but don't feel the need to have a direct line to them. You, I can _trust_ you not to abuse having a direct line to me and I feel the need for you to have that sort of access to me. I’ve already had Taimi sign a contract for her not to abuse the line to you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You got Taimi to sign a contract.”

“In triplicate,” Magna replied. “One of the copies of that contract is yours by rights so that you can call her out if she tries anything you find invasive. I made sure this communicator-” she played with it in her palm, eyeing it with a careful consideration that he was coming to find as a character trait for her “-wasn’t outfitted with scanners to read health information and location. And, just for the record, I had to fight Scruffy for the on and off switch because _some_ people don’t understand that privacy is a thing.”

“I heard that,” Taimi’s voice rang out from Magna’s pack.

Magna snorted, smirking. Canach had to fight himself not to return it, telling himself that he was stronger than that. “ _Thank you_ , Taimi, for illustrating exactly who I was referring to,” Magna chuckled.

“What can I say, I’m a helper. I can flirt with Canach for you if you’d like. Hey, Canach, nice signal to noise ratio you’re exhibiting there, buddy.”

Canach and Magna snorted at the same time, finally sharing a smirk.

“If you’re going to flirt for us, Taimi,” Canach drawled, “we can demonstrate so that you can do so more accurately. Magna, you look like you walked right out of my Dream.”

Magna blinked a few times, the look in her eyes energizing a moment (making her eyes look like a newly sparked flame), before she recovered her smirk as if she finally realized what he was doing. “And I know you _like_ what you see.”

“UGH. I’m muting you both for an hour, please cram all of your smooching into there please.” There was a distinct click from Magna’s pack.

Magna broke down into a storm of snickering, leaning forward and giving him a light headbutt. “Thank you, this is the first time she’s done that outside of bathroom breaks for _weeks_. I have to clear it with her before putting down my pack or else she thinks I’m dead and sends one of her krewe to check on me.”

Canach ruffled her hair, leaning against her and chuckling. “I had a feeling. Your hackles were raised like that one time we had a tail from the Order of Whispers in Divinity’s Reach.”

“I don’t like when people watch me all the time, it’s not that ridiculous,” Magna grumbled. That argument _clearly_ wasn’t meant for him, but she said it with a conviction that told him that she’s said it to other people _repeatedly_. Safe bet was that Taimi was one of those other people.

Canach joked, “Are you sure that thing has an off button?”

“I checked it myself,” Magna answered, leaning back and sitting down on a nearby stump. “Then I had Reeva check it. After Reeva broke it, I had Taimi fix it and explain _every_ part and its function to me of the communicator.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, not bothering to disguise his surprise. “All that effort for me, Commander?”

“Canach,” Magna answered, meeting his gaze evenly and calmly, “it should not surprise you by this point that I _care_ by now. Even outside our little exchange, I _care_.” She squared her shoulders at him and he noticed her pupils widen ever so slightly. “You wanna make something of it?”

“Magna, I’m not _challenging_ you, put down the charr bravado for a second,” Canach replied, rubbing his temples. “What do you _want_ from me for this? For this promise of the famous Commander, Dragon-Slayer and now God-Hunter, covering my back?” He narrowed his eyes at her, turning from her and crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Everyone has a price, Commander. What’s yours?”

He could feel her stare burn into him for a long time before he felt her arms wrap around his chest and brush his. Her chin rested on his shoulder, her whiskers lightly tickling his cheek as she settled into a now very familiar position. He was surprised at how relaxed he was at her closeness.

“Canach,” she muttered, “my only price is that you stay alive and be happy. That’s it.”

He huffed and she tightened her grip. “I _mean_ it, you cynical asshole. Do you know how _rare_ it is that someone acknowledges that I’m dangerous, that my achievements mean something, yet don’t give a singular _fuck_ about treating me with some imaginary decorum? Treating me like an average soldier, like I _don’t_ have the answers to every single _fucking_ problem? People’ve been cruel about your bold and willingness streak, Canach, but I _like_ it. You’re not just an amusement or tool to me and you never _will_ be.” She let go of him, moving to stand in front of him. “You’re my friend, Canach, and one of the only friends I have that I can drop all the bullshit around.”

His shoulders dropped an inch or two at the molten look in her eyes, sincerity searing him to his core. “Magna-”

“I’ve dropped all the Ash Legion tricks, Canach,” Magna replied. “Tell me: am I lying?”

He searched her face, looking for signs that he’d had to learn far too quickly in his “childhood”. Her pupils were blown wide looking at him, something all charr did when they looked at something they especially liked or had some extremely positive emotion. Her ears were pressed against her head in a show of submission, vulnerability, nervousness. Her breathing pattern was subtle, but her nostrils and whiskers betrayed that she was breathing mostly calmly, even if it was a little fast.

“...no,” Canach answered, gently putting one of his hands on one of her long, swept back horns. She let him, let him pull her down to his height. He rested his forehead to hers, let himself lean against her. She didn’t let him fall, supporting his weight as faithfully as she ever had and, he was starting to suspect, ever _will_. “You’re not lying.”

“You’ve got me covering your back, sniping what you need me to snipe, calling threats, and _lying to gossip papers_ for you,” Magna whispered, “for as long as you want. You tell me to back off and I’ll back off, Canach. But don’t you _dare_ think, for even a second, that I want to mould you into some kind of tool or weapon or use you. All of this loyalty? All of this loyalty is for you as you _are_ and whoever you choose to be. Got it?”

“...I’m starting to understand, Magna,” he whispered. He closed his eyes, staunchly ignoring the sappy tear forming at the corner of his eye. “Thank you.”

“Any time, Canach. Any time.”

He left their meeting spot that day with his pack just a tiny bit heavier and feeling just a tiny bit lighter.

* * *

“Canach! What are you here? Enjoying your time off?”

He looked over his shoulder, seeing her approach. He promptly shanked the temptation to brighten like some young fern hound at her appearance. He wasn’t some young sapling. He lifted his glass of water, toasting her as he turned around fully from the counter. “Freedom is a sweet drink, Commander. I've been busy quenching my thirst.”

He saw Kasmeer and Rytlock at Magna’s sides, flanking her sides like some kind of honor guard. Taliesinnia was skipping alongside Magna and he envied her ability to deal with the heat better than him. Shouldn’t her longer hair require her to have more water? The Pale Tree played favorites-

He noticed a loud burst of charr-laughter outside of their group and subtly scanned the casino. Anywhere else, the background charr relaxing into key locations in the casino would have been normal, but he quickly realized there were too many to match the amount that he traveled with and who could’ve possibly traveled with Magna. Canach caught sight of a large burly brown charr with bright white stripes and a blond mane giving him a look that he could recognize from any elementalist: Fireball Calculation. He recalled Magna describing having one such charr elementalist in her warband, something Sunstrike. Her warband must’ve been here and he got confirmation when he noticed a loudmouthed orange charr chatting up a wide-eyed Elonian at the bar not too far away from him (“If you think I can fight well, honey, wait until you see how I _dance_.”).

Magna herself was better groomed than he remembered, having swapped armors between the times he saw her (now having some armor that matched the local fashion. That was an interesting choice). He noted with some pride that his rifle was still slung across her back, looking newly repaired.

Kasmeer looked between Magna and himself, no doubt figuring out some way to spread joy somehow. She apparently saw something that he didn’t in Magna’s expression, tittering, “You should join us. We were just about to meet with-”

He chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “Zalambur. I already know a thing or two about this place.” Canach caught the question in Magna’s expression and smirked at her. “A sylvari gambler who's up 500 gold is _just_ my cover, I promise you.”

Magna opened her mouth to answer, a smirk already curling on her lips, but her father grumbled, “Now that he's free, it's okay if I kill him, right?”

Magna’s and Taliesinnia’s heads snapped to look at Rytlock. Taliesinnia’s expression was of abject horror that was leaning towards anger (he knew she was his favorite little sister for a reason) and the expression Magna wore was exasperatingly fond. She shoved her shoulder against Rytlock’s, nipping one of his larger ears. “No, sire. You can’t kill Canach.”

“Half-dead?” Rytlock asked.

“Burn me, are you _still_ angry he told me about the manual? It isn’t _that_ embarrassing,” Magna replied. She muttered something that Canach couldn’t catch that made Taliesinnia relax and Rytlock huff, the old charr roughly butting heads with Magna. If their horns weren’t so similarly angled backwards (only curving very _slightly_ at the last quarter of the horns), Canach was fairly certain they would’ve locked together roughly instead of the almost gentle intersecting and brushing they did.

Kasmeer cleared her throat, looking concerned. “Let’s be civil-”

“Relax, Kasmeer,” Canach replied. “They’re hugging it out.”

Kasmeer fixed him with a stare for a moment. Canach wasn’t sure how to read it, her face too open. Was it all sincere curiosity or was some amount of it performative? Taliesinnia looked very pleased with him at any rate, her hawk swapping which of Taliesinnia’s shoulders to perch on. His sister leaned towards Kasmeer, whispering something he couldn’t quite catch (something about field experience?) and Kasmeer giggled. She shook her head, regaining focus. “Still, we could use some help. How about it, Canach?”

Canach tried not to be too pleased when he noticed two of Magna’s ears swivel to focus on him and how she watched his interaction with Kasmeer out of the corner of her eye as she dealt with her father’s fussing.

Taliesinnia kept looking between them like she was watching the best sports-game of her life, her eyes wide and a smile spreading across her lips that she wasn’t trying very hard to hide with her hands.

He chalantly shrugged, pretending to take a long moment considering his options as if he _didn’t_ come to Elona specifically to watch Magna’s back. He drawled, “While my freedom's been gratifying, it's also a little boring. This-” he gestured at the four of them, smirking. “-is much more interesting.”

_That_ got him Magna’s whole attention, her orange eyes filled with careful consideration as she regarded him. Rytlock was similarly studying him, but the key difference was in their pupils: Magna’s pupils were adorably wide as she studied his face while Rytlock’s were almost as thin as pins.

He shrugged. “Besides, I _may_ have made a wager that the slayer of Elder Dragons can take down a god- and I intend to collect.”

Magna broke out into laughter, causing several other casino patrons to jump at the volume of her scratchy mirth. She stepped forward, gently butting heads with him and kissing his cheek. He felt his face warm as he heard Taliesinnia and Kasmeer softly giggle.

“Can I kill him _now_?” Rytlock asked.

Magna chuckled, turning. Canach felt a bit of weight on his waist and looked down, seeing her tail wrap partially around it. “Definitely not, Brimstone,” she snickered. She gave Canach a warm look. “What are the odds?”

Canach chuckled, playing with the tip of her tail with a finger or two. “Let’s not jinx it, Magna.”

* * *

As Magna left to go investigate Forged camps with her warband behind her and Kasmeer left for the temple with Taliesinnia, Rytlock grumbled to him, “You hurt her and I’ll gut you.”

Canach guffawed, waving him off. “You’ll have to wait in line after her and her warband, Brimstone.”

Rytlock was silent a few moments as they readied their raptors. Canach thought the “issue” done as he checked his saddle straps, but as he pulled into the saddle, he caught Rytlock giving Canach a look of grudging respect.

“Right answer.”

* * *

In the aftermath of the attack that Balthazar’s Herald did on the Temple of Kormir, one of Magna’s warband approached him. He was toying with Forged metals, seeing if there were shards small enough to fit within a shrapnel bomb (a nasty surprise for Joko’s Awakened if they interfered). The loud, orange one that he was entirely certain was Reeva from her segments in the Magna Manual as well as Magna’s stories of their escapades.

“You’re the green plant guy,” she replied.

Canach looked and saw Magna helping around the temple. He tried not to get all gooey at the sight of her gently humming panicking victims, wrapping their wounds with a gentle touch he knew all too well. He sighed. Seemed like he’d have to handle this himself. “That’s me,” Canach drawled. “Green, plant, guy. You’ve broken me down to my bare essentials.”

“Oh, stop getting your roots in a twist,” the charr huffed, rolling her eyes with a fond smile. “The name’s Canach, yeah?”

“Mmmhmmm,” he hummed, looking at her as he put his metal shards in a neat pile. “Can I help you?”

“I just wanted to tell you why they call me Reeva the Cleava,” she answered. Reeva leaned entirely too close to him in his personal space bubble, whispering, “Because, once, I seduced a Flame Legion general into his command tent and onto a shrapnel mine so powerful that it split him in half.”

Canach rolled his eyes. “That’s literally impossible.” He pushed her out of his space. “The kind of machinery that would be necessary for such a mine would make the mine too unwieldy that he would’ve noticed, despite your...charms.”

Reeva grinned, punching him in the shoulder. “Ha! You’re not dumb! I like that in Magna’s mates. But seriously, don’t hurt her.”

“I wasn’t planning on it,” he replied. He smiled as an idea came to him. “By the by, you may want to give Rytlock some grief. He gave me the don’t hurt her speech before you.”

“Son of a molly!” Reeva swore. “Warband comes first in slag like this!” She looked about the temple. “You see where he went?”

Canach pointed and she ran on all fours. He let out a sigh of relief, turning away to work again. He took out his notebook, opening to a new page to sketch a blueprint of his newest idea, but before he could get the charcoal to paper, he was tackled and wrapped up in a tight hug.

“You’re one of us now, _frond,_ ” Reeva rumbled. Ugh, plant puns. “We’ll figure out a warband name for you. I’m thinking Sunkisser.”

“I’m thinking Sun-Reeva-get-off-of-me-right-now,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. He noticed Magna watching him with a soft smile on her face and he sighed, patting one of Reeva’s arms. “Maybe Canach Sunshield.”

Reeva hummed. “But your shield’s a moon.” She gasped and let go of him in a hurry. “UNLESS IF I MAKE YOU A NEW SHIELD!”

Canach blinked. “Magna doesn’t have sun in her glare.”

“Sure _you_ don’t see it because she’s all soft and calm around you but _hoooo_ boy, I’m telling you the story of our first really big mission.” Reeva shook her head slowly. “I still kinda pity that poor molly.” She hummed. “Though I guess we don’t _gotta_ make the name literal.”

“It is literal, in a manner of speaking,” Canach replied. “I’m Magna’s shield.”

Canach blinked again as Reeva scooped him up over her shoulder, carrying him somewhere else in the temple. He pounded on her back, yelling, “Put me down, you insufferable furball!”

She cackled running off with him. It was a very jerk-y ride, jostling him about like he was a sack of potatoes. “MAGNA!”

“Volume, Reeva.” Burn him, Magna sounded too amused at his predicament. “These people are jumpy still and if you cause them to break their stitches, I will not hesitate in feeding you to the raptors.”

“Magna, that’s no way to talk to your sister!” Taliesinnia gasped. Ah. He hadn’t noticed she’d been helping Magna. Wonderful.

“She’s my bandmate who’s been without my leadership for some time-”

“Yeah, because _somebody_ got transferred by higher ups!” Reeva snorted. “Left me in charge of everybody and let me tell you: Wroda? Does _not_ know how to dance! Do not let the Quick part of her name fool you, she can _not_ dance!”

“Yahuk has good footwork,” Magna replied. “Has to to be an elementalist of his caliber.”

Canach cleared his throat. “As much as I _adore_ the back and forth, can someone please get Reeva to put me-”

“Oh yeah, that’s why I came over!” Reeva leaned over somewhere and Canach huffed as his breastplate dug into his gut uncomfortably. She mock-whispered, “Canach said the cutest thing! I was telling him that he’s an honorary member of the warband and he wasn’t being fussy about it until we started talking warband names, I wanted him to be Sunkisser since he does that with you, but he said he’d be Sunshield since _he’s your shield_.” Canach rolled his eyes, feeling warmer than usual in this brutal heat as Reeva pat his back. “Keep him, Magna.”

“Aaaaw, brother, I didn’t know you could be so _sweet_ ,” Taliesinnia replied. He could hear her sniffle loudly and he just _knew_ she was crying some kind of happy tears. Or bittersweet tears, given her whole... _issue_ with Braham.

Magna merely replied, “Reeva, please give me my mate and stop harassing him, both of you. He’s a person, not your plaything.”

“R _iiiiiiight_ , he’s just _your_ plaything,” Reeva teased. Canach kicked her and she huffed, bouncing him on her shoulder. She set him down next to Magna, winking at him.

He rolled his eyes as Taliesinnia stood. She grabbed Reeva, trying to pull the big charr. “We’ll give you two some alone time,” Taliesinnia said. “Right, Reeva?”

“Sure, sure,” Reeva replied, scooping up Taliesinnia. “We’ve got maneuvers to practice.”

“Oh right, Canach, Reeva’s gonna throw me at Forged!” Taliesinnia squealed, clapping her hands together. “She calls it the Fastball Special! It’s gonna be so much fun!”

“Go have fun all the way over there, please,” he drawled. “Away from the injured people.”

The two of them left and he muttered, “Burn me, there’s two of them.”

“Hm?” Magna had already gone back to checking on people, checking her stitching on the Elonian woman she’d been working on.

“Reeva and Taliesinnia,” he replied, “the energetic pests, the both of them. How do you handle it?”

Magna chuckled. “I don’t think it takes anything special.”

He gave her a long look and then leaned against her side. She looked down at him and he deadpanned up at her, “You’re stronger than anyone gives you credit for.”

She erupted into quiet snickers, giving him a gentle headbutt. “I know.”

* * *

Something was wrong. Canach didn’t know _what_ , exactly, but something was _deeply_ wrong. He wasn’t the only one that felt it—Vlast had made it _very_ clear that he suspected something was wrong with his Champion and it only deepened Canach’s dread.

“Can you tell exactly what it is?” Canach asked him.

Vlast opened a single golden eye at him. “The bond is new,” Vlast grumbled. “All I can sense is a deep feeling of unrest.”

Kasmeer hummed from somewhere nearby. “Magna doesn’t really feel unrest. Not from what I’ve gleamed.” At Vlast’s growl, she hiccuped. “Sorry! I - _hic_ \- didn’t mean to.”

Canach paced at the dragon’s side, scratching the back of his neck. “Magna’s _capable_ of feeling a wide variety of emotions, Kasmeer,” Canach replied. “She just hides them. Very, very deeply.”

“Then how did you two start dating?” Kasmeer asked. “I’ve been wondering that for a while now and well.” Kasmeer gestured to the airship. “We’ve got time.”

Canach sighed. “It was in the Maguuma Jungle. Taliesinnia had stolen my bomb-making kit and Magna had directed me to it. We talked about our attraction to one another afterwards and the rest is more or less history.”

Kasmeer narrowed her eyes at him. It was at that point that he remembered who he was talking to: the supposed Lie Detector. He had his doubts on that because if she was a true lie detector, she’d be able to tell all the times that either Commander said they were okay were lies.

“You’re lying,” Kasmeer replied.

“It’s a lot more complicated than that, but Magna’s a deeply private person-”

“But things don’t add up by the story you’ve given me,” she replied. “You two started getting chummy before Mordremoth died, but you two maybe only knew each other for a few months? You’re _both_ deeply private with intense needs for that to stay that way, so why let each other in after only knowing each other for a few months? There’s _something_ wrong with this picture and I don’t know-”

Canach snapped his fingers. “I know how to check on the Commanders!” He swung his pack into his hands, staunchly ignoring Kasmeer’s glare. He fished out the communicator Magna had given him. He flipped the on switch and _immediately_ could hear the crackle of fire from Magna’s end.

He felt cold as he heard Balthazar’s voice ring out, “You couldn’t save her, you couldn’t save your precious dragons, Sunglare!”

Vlast moved faster than Canach could process, there one moment and gone the next.

“They’ll stop you,” he heard Magna choke out. “They’ll...finish what I started!”

Canach’s grip on the communicator left small dents in it as Balthazar laughed. “No, my dear Commander. _I_ will be finishing what you started.”

And then the line went dead.


	6. 4-B: This is the moment I’ve been waiting for

If Kasmeer could describe Canach's state at this current moment, she would possibly use "frantic" to be generous. Canach himself would use “angry beyond all words”, but a more accurate picture of his state would be some mixture between “angry beyond all words”, “frantic”, “terrified beyond all words”, and “aching”.

The airship sped up as much as it could, following Vlast's roars and trail of golden crystals. Canach paced at the bow of the ship, scanning down below for any sign of...well, _anything_.

He stopped, looking up at the sky. “She has to be okay,” Kasmeer replied from behind him. He didn't respond, one of his hands gripping the hilt of his sword and the other hand gripping the railing of the airship. “They’ve...they’ve overcome worse than this before. They’ve defeated Zhaitan, Mordremoth, um-”

“Countless members of the Flame Legion,” Canach replied, his tone stock still. “Many members of the White Mantle, including their leader Minister Caudecus Beetlestone.”

“Right!” He heard Kasmeer clap her hands together. “She’s...she’s always been there for Talie. They’re fine. Both of them.”

“Magna sounded like she was choking.” Canach closed his eyes, letting his head fall. “It couldn't've been lava, as she wouldn't have been able to _speak_ through that without dying, so that leaves us with her choking on water or her own blood. Even against Mordremoth, she never sounded _that_ bad and that bastard of a dragon summoned up images of her dead warband members, her Whispers mentor, and her father and used them in ways that made Magna Sunglare _cry_.” He exhaled slowly. “But she won that day. And do you want to know _why_ she won that day, Kasmeer?”

“C-Canach? Are you-”

"She won that day,” Canach growled, “because she had _backup_. Because she had Braham and I at her back, covering her weak points. She told me that, when Balthazar first got loose. She told me that I was a probable cause for her being alive.” He chuckled, tipping his head back. “Some backup I am.”

“Canach, we had no way of knowing-”

“You wanted the _truth_ , Kasmeer?” He laughed, opening his eyes and turning to face her, her face full of tears as she was desperately trying to hold herself together. “Here's the _truth_ , Kasmeer Meade! Taliesinnia _did_ steal my kit and Magna _did_ help me find it. We did not, however, discuss our attraction to each other. We discussed the KRYTAN GAZETTE GOSSIP SECTION. She was _tired_ of humans spreading lies about her being in a romantic relationship with her own fucking _sire._ Her own _father_ . She used human gossip to put her head on straight because she had to always take a step back from everything to really process everything, though she'd always give some line about building _malice_ and _intent to harm._ I, on the other hand, was annoyed at the idea that people thought that I was Anise's pet, her part-time, side lover to Queen Jennah! So together, we schemed. Together we schemed to fake a relationship to the whole world just so everyone could leave us alone because we were so very tired of people faking assumptions about everything about us, so we wanted to lie to the world, most importantly the Krytan Gazette Gossip Section.”

As he spoke, Canach punctuated his speech with sharp hand gestures that he was quickly realizing was a habit he got right from Magna. He looked down at his hands, his shoulders drooping. “She lied to the Order of Whispers, said it was her trying to get information on me. And I? I lied to Anise. It was one of the many things that made me _happy_ during the time I had with Magna: she gave me an excuse to freely lie to Anise and would happily help me spite Anise at every turn and no one would be harmed. Just a little revenge at the horrible woman who thought she'd collar Magna and I in one fell swoop.” He sighed. “Things spiraled out of control. She started to show more belief and trust in me, putting complete and total faith in me while Mordremoth _tore_ at my mind. Where everyone, myself included, was waiting for me to turn traitor and attack, she never did. She believed in me and wanted me to rebel, wanted me to stay as I was, and BURN ME, I think she even found comfort in knowing that I was alive and _happy_ . She fought tooth and nail to help me get my freedom, put so much effort into making sure that I could call her if I needed help because she _cared_ , Kasmeer. She cared about me and everyone, myself included, thought that I'd hurt her, but damn! Damn if she didn't beat me to it, Kasmeer!” Canach gave a mirthless laugh, putting his hand in a fist and smashing it down onto the air ship railing. “ _Damn it._ ”

“Can- _hic-_ ach, we don't know if they're dead.”

Canach gestured at the spires behind him. “Time to find out.”

Fire scarred every part of the mesa on the top of the main spire. Forged were leaving the spire in droves, following some kind of trail that Canach couldn’t see. He looked down on the spire, spotting Taliesinnia first. When they were close enough, he jumped off, landing onto the spire with a thump. He pulled Taliesinnia from the precarious position she was in, laying halfway off of the spire and almost falling. Her hawk lay dead on her chest, placed there like a grotesque bouquet.

He looked for a pulse, but found none. He gently laid her in the greenest spot of the spire, muttering apologies. Then he heard a roar. Then he found _Magna_.

Vlast had crystallized her body, suspending her in golden crystal. The dragon was muttering in some language Canach wasn’t even going to _try_ to understand. No, he was much too focused on Magna’s wounds quickly knitting shut in stitches of golden crystal.

He frowned. “Is she-”

“Silence,” Vlast rumbled. “She is dead.”

“Then why-”

Vlast gave him a scathing look. “In case she fights her way _back_.”

Canach blinked. “...she can _do_ that?”

“It...it is remotely possible,” Vlast answered. “I thought it’d be impossible that I’d meet my Champion, that she was dead. She’s told me that she’s done many things that had low possibility of happening. If that pattern holds here...”

Canach took a deep breath. So even the draconic son of an future-seeing dragon wasn't sure. “Okay.”

“I am put in a difficult position, Canach Sunshield of the Night Cycle,” Vlast replied. “I feel my sister’s presence. It’s possible that she’s either on her way here or that Balthazar already has her.”

“And what do you want from me, Vlast?” Canach asked, throwing his hands in the air. “I don’t have the answers! She-” he gestured at Magna. “-didn’t have the answers either! We were all just _guessing_ , trying to save the world with our best guesses because this is our world and someone had to _do_ something! She wasn’t made as a soldier by a dragon, but she chose this fight and look at where it got her!”

“Are you suggesting fleeing?” Vlast asked, narrowing his pupils at him.

Canach huffed, resting his hands on the crystal that held Magna. “No. _No_. She would skin me alive.” He sighed. “I don’t know about you or anyone else. I’m waiting.”

Vlast eyed him with a careful consideration that made Canach’s chest ache in its familiarity. “Then I shall wait with you.”

* * *

 

They sat for hours. Kasmeer had collapsed by Taliesinnia’s body and sometimes Canach would catch sight of a pink butterfly or hawk flying about from that direction and hear her whispering something. Rytlock took one look at his daughter encased in crystal and then tried to break her out, headbutting and clawing at the crystal with a roar. Vlast and Canach made no move to stop him, eventually the old charr running out of steam and falling asleep next to the crystal. Vlast fell asleep soon after him, a gentle pile of pulsating gold crystal and draconic muscle. Magna’s warband took one look at the situation and left. Canach guessed it was to carve Magna’s legacy in the form of casualties to the enemy.

Canach sat next to the crystal, his back to it as he leaned against it. He sighed, putting his face in his hands. “You told me that you cared,” he muttered. “But I was an idiot that never told you.”

He jolted, hearing the others speak. He looked up from his hands, watching them move.

“Get back!” Rytlock snarked, pushing Kasmeer away from Taliesinnia’s body. He stood up and took a step or two in that direction, his hand on the hilt of his sword, but he froze as he saw Kasmeer grin with tears in her eyes.

“Commander!” Kasmeer hugged his sister, both of their shoulders shaking with crying. Rytlock looked away, uncomfortable at the show of affection.

His communicator called out with Taimi’s voice from one of Kasmeer’s hands. “Wait, what's going on there? You all said the Commanders were dead.”

“Taliesinnia?” He asked.

She broke from Kasmeer’s hug, running and tackling him. He fell over with a huff, Taliesinnia hugging him and _crying_.

“Canach! Canach, we forgot who we were and it was dark and scary and I never want to die ever again!” Taliesinnia sobbed, her arms tightly wrapped around him.

“Yeah, but that's not how "dead" works,” Taimi replied.

“She makes a good point. We all checked, Taliesinnia, and you were very much...no longer with us.” Canach slowly pushed her away, keeping her at arm’s length. “So, slow down. What happened?”

“We-we were in this place,” Taliesinnia sniffled. “Called the Domain of the Lost. It’s where people go when they die really, really traumatizing deaths. We had to fight other spirits for our names and watch our whole lives go by. Then we had to beat a monster because Grenth’s no longer there keeping the monsters at bay! The monster...it had enough life energy to bring one of us back to life.”

Canach firmly locked his expression into skepticism, not letting himself even _think_ about looking over his shoulder at the crystal with Magna’s body in it. “So you’re back.”

“No, she’s not!” Rytlock snarled. “This is a trick!”

Canach sighed, looking over to Kasmeer. He gestured at Taliesinnia, asking, “Kas, is this one of yours?”

Kasmeer shook her head, biting her lip. She slowly looked Taliesinnia up and down again, answering, “It's not an illusion.”

Taliesinnia stomped her foot, almost crushing Canach’s foot. “No! I’m not an illusion or a trick, I’m alive! I’m still one of the Commanders you’ve gotten to know! Oh, here! I can prove it! I know a secret that each one of you has never told anybody!” She pointed at Kasmeer. “You once broke your mother’s favorite vase as a little girl, but didn’t tell anybody and maintained an illusion there for over three months as you pieced the vase back together!” She pointed at Rytlock. “You have a soft spot for Logan Thackeray because he taught you by example that there’s more ways to treat a fellow soldier than what you were taught by Blood Legion!” She pointed at Canach. “And you’re in love with Magna!”

Canach opened his mouth to protest, but Rytlock interupted him with a snort. “We all know that.”

His little sister snapped her fingers, frowning. “Shoot!” She clapped her hands together. “Okay what about the fact that Canach left a well-paying mercenary job in the Sparkfly Fens, saying that it was Magna’s orders that he left with full pay! But Magna never _gave_ that order, so Canach was lying and he used that pay to get to Elona!”

Kasmeer and Rytlock looked at him, then at each other. Kasmeer nodded and Rytlock sighed.

“So,” Kasmeer said, “what happened?”

“I got here first and Balthazar attacked me,” Taliesinnia said. She bit her lip, wringing her hands together before speaking. “He almost killed me then patched me back up three times before Magna got here. Then he killed me and made Magna watch. Then I woke up in the Domain of the Lost and I didn’t know who I was. Magna showed up the same way. We fought through a lot of stuff, then the monster. The Judge said only one of us could take the life energy from the Eater of Souls. Magna told me to take it and go,” Taliesinnia replied. “She, she said she had another way out, but I think she was lying! We saw all the same things, the Judge only offered us one way out, so I tried to make her take it, but she overpowered me and threw me into the energy and then I woke up and I-” Taliesinnia choked on a sob. “I-I’m so sorry, Canach. I d-didn’t want it, she-she was more-”

“Sister, kindly _shut_ up,” Canach growled. “She chose you. Don’t spit on her choice like this. You said there was only one way out? Were you and Magna split up at any point?”

Taliesinnia stared at him. “U-um...kind of? We were split up twice. Once when we looked for weapons to fight for our names, once when we were trying to find our purposes. Why-”

There was a _loud_ shattering sound. Canach rolled, shielding Taliesinnia from the shards of golden crystal flying everywhere. They waited, a tense pause filling the air before they heard Kasmeer gasp. Canach slowly got off of Taliesinnia, slowly looking at what had everyone’s attention.

Magna stood, gold crystal encasing her arms and making draconic claws over her original arms. She almost looked Branded, but enough of her original appearance was there to make it clear that these were additions over transmutations. Wings spread from her shoulders, catching sunlight in them. There was a smoke raising off of her, similar to her Deadeye cantrips and magic, but the orange and red was joined by Vlast’s gold as it formed into a shadow of Vlast over her.

She opened her mouth, two voices echoing from her: her own and Vlast’s. “We are _alive_!” Magna turned to Canach and all of the crystals retracted into her body as she _charged_ forward on all fours.

Canach couldn’t stop himself from _laughing_ as she pounced on him. She nuzzled her face into his neck, purring loudly. He wrapped his arms around her, drawling, “Dead looks good on you, Magna.”

“We-I-” He noted the correction, noting that Vlast’s voice only overlapped hers when she spoke in plurals. Why the plural in the first place? “I’m very much _alive_ , Canach. So, no. I can’t make dead look good.”

“Good because I can’t tell you the newest addition to the No list if you’re dead.”

She settled on top of him, curled and purring loudly. With a facial expression so innocent that he’d swear up and down that butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, she asked, “Oh? What’s that?”

He headbutted her, wrapping a hand around one of her horns and holding her close to him. “No more dying.”

She hummed, taking her sweet time to answer. It gave him time to notice that her eyes were slightly different: if he looked closely, he could see that there were flecks of gold amongst the orange. Those hadn’t been there before—he’d know.

Magna drawled, “I don’t know, Canach, I can’t make any promises-”

“Then I am going to motivate you not to,” Canach replied, kissing the top of her snout and making her blink in surprise. “If you can’t factor in self preservation for yourself, do it for me because I have never lost someone like you before and I am not planning on it.” He leaned up, nipping one of her smaller ears. “Do I make myself clear?”

She rumbled with laughter. “As crystal.” She blinked, her voice echoing with Vlast’s again, “AURENE.”

Taliesinnia gasped. “Right! Balthazar has Aurene!”

Canach almost found himself sighing in disappointment as Magna leaped off of him.

It never ended, did it?

* * *

Magna swiftly put a plan together, something she noted as being helped by Vlast—who was now sharing her body because his life energy was powering them both? Canach wasn’t sure what to make of that—and they were off to steal Joko’s army. Her warband took her death and resurrection in stride, Reeva joking that Magna joked all the time that things killed her and they didn’t actually so this was nothing “super new” with her. Canach almost argued, but a look from Magna made him stop.

As they traveled from Awakened camp to Awakened camp, Magna and Taliesinnia wowing generals while disguised as Archon Iberu and his steward. After the final general (a Beastmaster of some sort), Magna lead them away on a long winding path away from any Awakened ears.

Watching her scan the third possible camp site was exasperating. They’d been on the move for several hours with very little breaks. Watching her little smirk on Archon Iberu’s face was almost nauseating in how two very different emotions tore at him at the sight of it.

She gave Kasmeer a nod. “Great work, Kas. Now we have three of Joko's top marshals ready to follow us into battle.” Vlast’s voice chipped in, “We are one step closer to being able to rip that molten scag apart for touching Aurene.”

Kasmeer dropped the disguises, smiling. Canach almost rolled his eyes, but settled into helping set up camp.

“Taliesinnia, Canach, Rytlock—good performances out there,” Magna replied.

Canach looked over at Rytlock. “Did you hear something? Was the mighty archon addressing our pack of filthy mongrels?”

Magna nervously chuckled. “I might've gotten a little carried away back there...I can’t help it, Ash Legion code: there’s no kill like overkill.”

Rytlock snorted. Canach caught the old charr hiding a grin. “Maybe if the archon whistled our marching orders in a higher register...”

Kasmeer laughed, “Put you both back in the graves I salvaged you from?” She leaned against Magna’s shoulder, grinning at Magna as she rolled her eyes. “ _Seriously_ , Commander?” Kasmeer leaned against Magna’s shoulder in a way that made _something_ in Canach flare up. It wasn’t jealousy. Magna let people into her personal space bubble sometimes, when she was feeling up to it. It didn’t make anyone special. Taliesinnia got to go into Magna’s personal space bubble all the time and they only saw each other as siblings.

Canach couldn’t help but internally pout as he sat at the front of his tent. At Magna’s laugh, he sat up a little straighter and pressed his lips together to keep from smiling.

“Okay, okay, but you all have to admit,” Magna chuckled, “it _worked_. So stop teasing me about a perfectly functional ploy and let’s focus on resting for Balthazar. I want everyone bright-eyed and bushy tailed for tomorrow’s fight.”

“Kasmeer, Taliesinnia, and I will endeavor to grow tails,” Canach drawled.

Magna nodded, her face shifting to be deadly serious. “Good work, soldier. We’ll need them. How you people balance without them is beyond me.”

“Some of us don’t feel the need to backflip off walls.”

“ _One. Time_.”

“Was more than enough for this sylvari, thank you.”

Rytlock growled from his tent, “Take it to her tent or stop it. If you don’t, I’ll gag you both.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Magna and Canach replied simultaneously. They both smirked at each other as Rytlock groaned.

* * *

“You know what we discussed,” Canach replied.

“Mmmhmmm.” Magna was checking her rifle, meticulously picking sand out of it. Sohothin hung from her belt.

He tapped her chin, making her look at him. “No. Dying.”

Magna rolled her eyes, chuckling under her breath. “Not planning on it, Canach.”

He leaned up on the front of his feet, pulling her down playfully by her horn and making her look at him. “It shouldn’t surprise you that I _care_ by this point. So, seriously: no dying.”

She looked down at him, pupils widening the longer she stared at him. She kissed his forehead. “I promise not to die in my fight against Balthazar.”

He cleared his throat. “I told Kasmeer that we were fake dating.”

“...you did _what_.”

“What did you want me to do, the woman is a bit of a lie detector and she asked how we got together and you. Were. _Dead_.”

“...Canach, she only detects lies if the _person speaking thinks they’re lying_.”

He let go of her horn, turning on his heel and walking away at a very rapid pace. “...excuse me, I have to go fuss over my younger sister and make sure _she_ doesn’t die too.”

“Canach-”

He turned around, pointing a finger at her. “Come out of this still standing and we’ll _talk_.”

* * *

He lost sight of Magna during the drawn out fight with Balthazar ages ago. He and the others were keeping Branded, Awakened, and Forged away from the fight while Magna went to face Balthazar head on while Taliesinnia focused on freeing Aurene.

Canach kept his communicator on the whole time, listening in on Magna’s dual with Balthazar.

“I am fire!” Balthazar called out, his voice filled with static from the Brand’s interference. “I am war!” Canach could guess the loud metal crashing sound from the communicator was Magna shoving Sohothin into the god’s gut. “What are _you_?”

Canach couldn’t stop himself from grinning as he heard Magna’s voice say, “Still. _Standing_.”

* * *

“Canach-”

“Do this one act with me and we’ll talk.”

“You said I had to be still standing when I got out of the fight with-”

“Let me have this one scheme and then we’ll talk. Please?”

“... _fiiiine_ , put down the pout.”

“It’s a _smolder_.”

“I’ll show you a _smoulder_.”

* * *

“Canach!”

Canach perked up from his drunken slump on the bar’s counter. “Maggie!”

Magna sighed, walking over with a fond smile on her face. “How much have you had?”

He started giggling, punctuating the end of it with an uncharacteristic pig-like snort. “Not enough!” He reached for the mug he’d been drinking out of, but Magna just gently pushed it away from him. “Maaaaaaags.”

“You’ve had enough, Canach,” Magna chuckled.

“He’s only had two, two and a half maybe,” the bartender replied, raising her eyebrows. “Swear I’ve seen him hold his drink better.”

“It’s a sylvari thing,” Magna replied, picking up the mug and keeping it from a giggly Canach. “Some of them require more water than others and Canach’s a damned water sponge-”

“Hey! I resent that claim. I am a water sponge, not a handsome specimen,” Canach whined, leaning into her to try to reach it from her.

Magna held the mug above her head, snorting. “He’s a water sponge. He looks like a cactus, but don’t let that fool you, he’s more like a fern.”

“Sure, tell all of my secrets, why don’t you,” Canach grumbled.

“Sylvari have to be careful when they drink non-sylvari booze because if they drink more alcohol than they have water in their system, which is a different ratio for _every_ sylvari because the Pale Tree likes to experiment I guess, then they’re total lightweights. Sylvari bartenders tend to water stuff down or do a two-for-one deal with booze and water. Get a water light sylvari and they’ll drink even a norn under the table.” After watching him try to reach for the mug for another two seconds, Magna snorted and drank the mug’s contents herself.

Canach pouted. “Rude.”

“But effective,” Magna replied. She looked back at the bartender. “General tip? Give sylvari customers a glass of water for every half a mug they drink. Keeps ‘em less grumpy since water works like chocolate for these buggers and is a good average to keep from having less lightweights.”

The bartender blinked. “Good...to know? Wait, aren’t you one of the Heroes of-”

Magna scooped up Canach, tossing him unceremoniously over her shoulder. “You never saw me.”

Canach snickered at the dumbfounded expression on the bartender’s face. He winked at her, singing, “She’s got blood cold as _ice_ and a heart made of stone, but she keeps me alive, she’s the beast in my bones-” He huffed as Magna bounced him on her shoulder lightly. He bit back a grin as other patrons—Kasmeer and Taliesinnia amongst them—watched them leave. He sung, “She gets everything she wants when she gets me alone like it's nothing.” He waggled his eyebrows at the guard at the door. “She’s got four big horns and they get me a little bit.”

He fell silent as they left, Magna winding and prowling through the alleyways of Amnoon. They eventually stopped around one of the empty docks. After a moment of checking for eavesdroppers of any sort, they both erupted into laughter.

“Water’s like _chocolate_ to sylvari?” he whisper-yelled as she put him down, his whole body shaking with laughter.

Magna snorted, snickering, “Okay, you have _no_ grounds to make fun of me for that improvised bullshit when your drunk act is so _paper thin_.”

“Like fucking _chocolate_!” he snickered, grinning at her.

“You’re a _plant_ , Canach, it’d make sense to a human that’s never seen a sylvari before!” Magna sat down on the dock, her body shaking with laughter. “There’s kids who have been asking me behind your back if you’re a _choya_! These people don’t know better, I thought that was the whole point of the act.”

“It _was_ , I just didn’t think you’d say something _that_ obvious and for that bartender to _believe it_ -” He sat down next to her, slapping his thigh. “-that made my night.”

“Sometimes, you gotta gamble and say the most ridiculous thing,” Magna replied, looking out over the star-painted water, “and see how it sticks.”

Canach looked at her and sat up a little straighter. “Okay. I caught feelings for you.”

Magna snapped all of her attention onto him. Huh. Is this what her sniper targets felt like? “What.”

“That’s why Kasmeer detected a lie,” he replied. “Because I caught feelings for you and the fake dating got to the point where it felt like it was _real_ dating and I...I liked it. I used it as an excuse to spend time with you, which is why I would tell you where I was in our letters and outline these outrageous date ideas to get your attention. I only realized it when you were dead.” He looked out over the water, trying very hard to keep himself as calm as the tides out there.

It was silent for several moments. It was probably just seconds, but to Canach it was dragging on like the sand in the Hourglass of Time was coated in sap and sticking to the glass and dragging along like some kind of heavy shipment pulled by the oldest, laziest, and grumpiest dolyaks. He kept his eyes firmly on the water, staunchly refusing to look at her at all so he wouldn’t have to see the look on her face. Confusion, maybe? She was too good to be disgusted by the notion, but perhaps she only saw him as friend, brother, and confidant. She wouldn’t even consider having romantic relationships with charr in another Legion, what hope did he have when he wasn’t even charr? Why did he have to ruin it all?

Canach snapped out of it when he felt her arm gently wrap around his shoulders. He let her pull him close and shivered as she purred _loudly_ into his ear.

“Me too.”

He blinked. Once. Twice. “What.”

“Canach, did you really think that I stuck _around_ the Sparkfly Fen after confirming that Balthazar wasn’t there,” Magna asked, “ _just_ because I thought he’d show up like BLARGH SURPRISE IT IS I, BALTHAZAR? I made _excuses_ to stay around _you_ because _you_ make me feel...safe. Balanced. I literally extended my list of suspects for informants of the Gazette _just_ so I could give you affection at any given moment in public.” She gently pressed her nose into his neck a moment and inhaled briefly before settling her chin on his shoulder. “I kind of realized that my feelings were _there_ when you took the time to do something no one else has done since my fahrar days: you patiently sat with me and worked through my hiccups. You didn’t go ugh you’re an adult and especially a charr adult, what’s your deal why can’t you use a rifle. Every minor explosion, every missed shot, every backfire of black powder, and you just took it all in stride and _shrugged_ while saying well, now you know not to do _that_ , so let’s try something different. It really sunk in for me when memories of you showed up in the Domain of the Lost while I was trying to find my purpose.”

He looked over at her. “Out of all the things in this world, _I’m_ your purpose?”

Magna softly snorted, gently flicking his nose with a claw. “No. My general purpose is to try to give the world the best chance it can get. But I’m _part_ of that world and the one of the best things I can give myself is love, especially one that is a stubborn-” she kissed the tip of his nose, “-snarky-” his right cheek, “-brilliant-” his left cheek, “-rebellious-” his chin, “sylvari who will never let me get away with anything while also enabling me _immensely_.” Magna settled back down on his shoulder, purring softly. “I was content to just let it be platonic—I’m no stranger to shoving romantic inclinations into a metaphorical closet and never letting them see the light of day. I figured you wouldn’t feel that way about me.”

Canach snorted, gently ruffling her hair. “Magna Sunglare, you’re a sap.” He gently took one of her horns and pulled her closer to kiss her cheek. “But you’re _my_ sap now. So take all the romantic inclinations out of the metaphorical closet, I’ve got full claim to them.”

She snickered, grinning at him. “Fine, but you’re gonna have to be my boyfriend in return for that.”

He hummed, pretending to take his sweet time to deliberate on that. He drawled, “You drive a hard bargain, Sunglare, but deal.”

* * *

“We have something to tell you both.”

Magna and Canach gave each other a _look_ out of the corner of their eyes.

Magna rested her hands on the table. “So do we. But you first.”

Kasmeer gave Taliesinnia an encouraging pat on the back. “Go on. Tell them.”

“I um...” Taliesinnia wrung her hands together. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

“Did you steal someone’s pet again?” Magna asked.

“N-no.”

“I won’t be mad.”

Taliesinnia took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I um...up until very, very, very recently worked for the Krytan Gazette as an anonymous reporter for their journalism section.”

Magna and Canach simultaneously said, “What.”

“Marjory said that I t-took very good notes and that I should do frontline combat journalism as a way to earn money on the side, but um...they wouldn’t let me _do_ that because I was new and they didn’t know if they could trust me, so they told me no. I left and bumped into Kasmeer and Countess Anise, who were very, very nice and calmed me down and talked to me about everything. Together, we came up with the idea that I would send in reports to their Gossip section through Kasmeer, who would disguise herself to be someone else and give them my reports. I _intended_ to hurt their sales because they were really, really dumb and _put in my reports_ , so I figured-” Taliesinnia threw her hands into the air, her orange eyes wide “- _who_ would be dumb enough to believe a newspaper with this kind of garbage in it? Like I can be naive sometimes, but like. Even I knew what I was submitting wasn’t believable!”

She waited a moment, taking in Magna and Canach’s expressions. She bit her lip, seeing their matching poker faces.

She continued, “So I started to get _more_ ridiculous! Countess Anise got in on it by giving me tips and just correct-enough information to get past editors and that’s how that column got started. I had to get _more_ ridiculous because the Pale Tree didn’t birth a quitter when she birthed _me_ and I started saying that Magna was dating Rytlock.”

“Then I told her how weird that was,” Kasmeer interrupted, smiling sheepishly. “Because that’s weird.”

“Sylvari siblings sometimes date each other, I didn’t-”

“ _Any_ ways,” Kasmeer replied. “There’s more.”

“Oh!” Taliesinnia clapped her hands. “Yes! There’s more. You two started doing your fake relationship thing and it was _amazing_ .” She grinned at the two of them. “I felt like I was _living_ in a romance novel! So, so, so I sent the Gazette scraps of my notes and kept the rest of it.” Taliesinnia took out a well-worn leather journal out of her pack, setting it on the table. “And now I’m giving it to you two! Because Kasmeer helped me realize having all this information about my friends is weird.” Taliesinnia folded her hands on the table. “In my defense, I’m maybe six years old, I was left unsupervised, and social etiquette is hard.”

“A maze of our own making,” Canach drawled. He reached over, opening the journal. “Oh look. It’s our coffee date. Magna, I _told_ you someone was in the trees, pay up.”

Magna grumbled, putting some copper on the table.

“Are you guys...mad?” Taliesinnia asked. “I’m really sorry! I really want to learn from this and get better-”

“We know, Talie,” Magna answered. “It just makes all of this...a lot more ironic.” Magna leaned forward. “Canach and I are together now.”

Taliesinnia’s eyes widened and her hands clenched into fists. “T-together together? Dating each other or professional partners together? What kind of together?”

“Dating,” Canach answered. He bit back a smirk as Taliesinnia started squealing.

“That’s!” She put her fists up to her cheeks, squeaking. “That’s so great! Aaaaah, I _helped_ with that, didn’t I?”

“In a really, really, really roundabout way,” Magna answered, chuckling, “you achieved the goal you first set out to do. You got the two grumpy-wumpi to _bond_ with people.”

“Wumpuses,” Taliesinnia corrected. She blinked. “Wait. _Did you look in my social notes_. Is **that** how you avoided all of my carefully constructed friendship exercises?”

Magna smirked, sitting back in her chair. “Ash Legion secret.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta give credit where credit's due: the song Canach sings while "drunk" is a modified version of "Horns" by Bryce Fox, which is the song that got me to ship Magna and Canach in the first place (as I initially interpreted the song as having a teasing tone and it felt exactly like the sort of teasing tone Canach would have towards Magna).
> 
> There's bits of this that I go eh at (Magna and Vlast's whole deal), but this is a ship fic darn it, as much as I wanna, it'd be weird to detour into the logistics of Magna and Vlast's situation. I'm incredibly proud of the confession scene though, that shit was _dope_.
> 
> One more chapter and then I can wrap this fic up with a nice bow. I might write more Magna related stuff in the future (I've got a draft sitting around of the aforementioned inheritance scavenger hunt with Rytlock laying around, along with the Season 2 rewrite).


	7. Battlefield Discipline

“Canach, your girlfriend’s being weird.”

Canach rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to the group of Branded that he was keeping an eye on. “Taimi, you’ve called me to say that twice now. One more and I get a free consultation on asura demolitions technology, according to the lovely contract that my girlfriend had you sign.”

“Okay, the first time I called to say that? I wanted to see you get defensive because Magna bet you wouldn’t get fussy about it. Thank you, by the way, for the five silver that went to the Scruffy Fund. This time, I called to say it because I’m actually kinda worried.”

“What brought you to this conclusion?” Canach asked. “Balthazar’s gone. Kralkatorrik _is_ giving us problems, but Magna’s taken said problems in stride and has found a good balance between information gathering on that front while helping Taliesinnia deal with whatever Joko’s up to.”

“I’ve been hearing weird things from her line,” Taimi replied. “Like, it’s really weird when she and Vlast talk at the same time with the whole _we will only need one shot for one kill_ and _we have completed the contract_ thing that they do with each other-”

“She used to mutter to herself all time time before the whole...dying thing,” Canach replied, watching the Branded group’s movements, seeing if he could figure out a pattern to them. “If I had a copper for every time I’ve heard her say ‘this looks like a good spot’ or ‘contract completed’, I would be a very, very rich sylvari.”

“Sure, sure, they feed each other’s melodrama.” Taimi huffed. “But I’ve been hearing weird animal cries from her line sometimes. Not raptor or jackal, the vocalizations don’t add up, and I’ve ruled out springer and skimmer for the same reason. It sounds a lot like Cider, one of her mail carrier griffons, but... _bigger_. Way bigger.”

“And this is something to be concerned about _why_?” Canach asked. “She’s killed quite a lot of things. If she gets into trouble with a griffon, she’ll be fine.”

“What about if she makes references to spooky disembodied ghost-y voices that are telling her to do things?” Taimi asked.

“What.” Canach frowned, ducking down to avoid the stare of the Branded.

“Yeah, she’s been going into that super Branded part of Vabbi and all over Elona. Far as I can tell from what I can hear, some ghost voice thing told your girlfriend to go fetch and she’s _doing_ it. Again. First Draconic Mons, now here. She’s been at it for a day and a half now.”

“Out of curiosity, have you _heard_ the voice?” Canach whispered, keeping stock still.

“Nope, just have heard her reference it,” Taimi answered. “So she’s either hearing it in her head where I can’t hear it or she’s hearing it when there’s so much interference that I could decipher a new whole language out of Branded energy interference.”

He gave a small hum, hearing the Branded leave from investigating his hiding spot. “I’ll look into it. It gives me an excuse to-” he made stereotypical kissing noises, unable to keep a smirk off of his face “-in Magna’s general direction.”

“Cool. Gimme a warning before you do because I _don't_ wanna listen to that,” Taimi replied. “Ever.”

“I can be bribed into giving warnings for the small fee of two silver per warning,” Canach replied.

“That’s highway robbery!”

“Is it?” Canach asked, looking over his spot. He took out his notebook, quickly sketching a map of where he’d seen the Branded go. They could try to act mindlessly, but there was a pattern to it beyond sticking close to Kralkatorrik’s initial scarring of Elona. They were guarding something. Knowing guard rotations was the first step of a break-in. “Then I’ll have to up my price. One gold per warning. I know you’ve earned much more than that, swindling certain councilors. Your charr impression needs a bit of work, but it’s spirited enough to fool most people.”

“Canach, has anyone ever told you that you’re the _worst_?”

“Several times. On several occasions. Some of which was Taliesinnia, but she’s reconsidered and dubbed me best brother since then.” Canach blinked, pausing in his notes. “I think Magna’s the only one that hasn’t called me the worst anything.”

“In her defense, before your ego gets too inflated, she was too busy fighting Flame Legion at the time you were first being the worst.”

Canach chuckled. “Too late. My ego has reached new heights.”

“The. _Worst_.”

* * *

Canach tracked Magna to the academy in Vabbi, spotting her disguised form with ease since even Mesmer magic couldn’t hide how Magna _moved_ with a general sense of precision and force that was distinctly _her_.

He cupped his hands together, shouting up to her, “Blood is better than ash!”

He got strange looks from the students, but Magna fixed him with a glare from those gorgeous orange eyes (Kas had left those in the disguise, thankfully). He smirked up at her and she leapt down, gracefully moving from bookshelf to bookshelf until she was right before him. Even disguised as a very tall human, Magna still was a sight to behold with her long hair and angular face.

“Blood couldn’t do that,” she grumbled, crossing her arms.

“I know, dear.”

“You’ve seen my father, he moves like an ox.”

He put his hands on her face, feeling the fur beneath the disguise and smirking. “Where you move like a griffon.”

Her lips twitched and she leaned into his touch. “What’re you here for besides flattering me?”

“Our little friend’s been concerned with what you’ve been up to and apparently I’m your wrangler,” Canach replied. “Given what I’ve heard, I’d like to hear your end of the story before I believe her conjectures.”

“I can do better than tell you what I’ve been doing,” Magna replied, taking his hands and pulling him away from the library. “I can _show_ you what I’ve been doing.”

Canach let Magna pull him along, keeping an eye on who was watching them. A few students looked vaguely jealous of him and he simply smirked at them as he brought up her hand to kiss it every time he noticed someone looking vaguely jealous. Eventually, they left the school grounds and lost anyone who was tailing them and both of them took off their enchanted disguise necklaces. They stuffed them in their packs before Magna whistled three short notes. Her skimmer slid out of seemingly nowhere.

She got into the saddle, pulling him behind her. “Hold on.”

He wrapped his arms around her torso, giving a brief kiss to a bit of her back that her armor left exposed. “Gladly.”

She snorted, maneuvering her skimmer. He tried not to jump every time that Branded lightning struck the ground, but missed them.

“I found weird pellets,” Magna replied, casual as you please. “I talked with Taliesinnia and she directed me to the Beastmaster in Vabbi. He pointed me in this direction.”

“Pellets. Are we talking asura pellets supposedly filled with every nutrition available or something like owl pellets?” Canach asked.

Magna chuckled. “Like owl pellets. But bigger. One was about the size of your head.”

“And in true Commander fashion, you put your nose into something?” Canach asked, snorting. “I’m not surprised. Taimi mentioned that you were talking to yourself about a ghostly voice?”

“I’ll introduce you in a second,” Magna replied. “She’s... _a lot._ Like, if you thought _Vlast_ was a lot-”

Vlast’s voice interrupted, “Chosen-”

“Lemme finish the sentence, buddy. If Canach thought you were a lot, this lady makes you look like a kitten.” Vlast snorted.

“In his defense, he’s a dragon,” Canach replied, “so he has historical precedent to be _a lot_.”

Canach hid a smirk as Vlast almost purred. “This is why he’s my favorite.”

* * *

“Almost there.”

“You said that a while ago, Sunglare. _Before_ the cliff jumping.”

“Look, it’s usually a lot easier for me if I’m going alone.”

“Funny, Reeva said that you infamously said that before-”

“You two have been _gossiping_.”

“Trading stories. Distinctly different from gossip.”

“Hmph.”

“How _did_ you get out of that Flame Legion camp? Reeva claimed that you bit off someone’s ear and made them all run screaming about a possessed witch.”

“She’s missing a few parts there. I lit someone’s tail on fire, then faked illness, then I bit someone’s ear off. Then I stole the small griffons that they had caged and got them to fly out in a giant swarm.”

“...that almost makes me believe Anise’s claim that you tried to steal my billet.”

“Oh, she’s absolutely right that I tried. She probably will never admit that I _did_.”

“What.”

“I had it for a full three days before the White Mantle debacle. Why do you think she was so willing to let you go? I put it back out of respect that you wanted to feel like you earned it.”

“Magna-”

“Far as I’m concerned, you earned your freedom with Mordremoth’s death, got it? So no pity party that I sped things up and made you less deserving of your freedom.”

“I love you.”

“...”

“But if you try to meddle in my life like that again, I’ll be gone without a word.”

“I understand. Love you too, you grumpy fern.”

“Oh, go cough up a fur ball.”

“Sure, I’ll save it for the next time we kiss.”

“ _Rude._ ”

* * *

“Canach Sunshield,” Magna replied, gesturing about them. “Welcome to the last Sunspear Sanctuary in Elona.”

Canach hummed, nodding. “So you managed to find an area somehow free from the Brand and you _haven’t_ told Taimi about it yet?”

“Was working out a deal with the Sunspears here.” Magna replied. “I found the last Spearmarshal first and well.” Magna motioned at the pile of bones sitting in the center of the clearing. “She had a favor she wanted me to do.”

“Favors,” Canach replied, raising an eyebrow. “Because it sounds like you did plural favors for her.”

Magna’s ears fell flat against her head and she cleared her throat. “Sure-”

“Which, from what I can gather from the bits and bobs all around here, along with the Sunspears—hello Second Spear Nayim, you look much happier than last I saw you—have had you running _all_ across Elona. Again.” Canach tilted his face down, giving her a _look_ . “Magna Sunglare, are you capable of telling people _no_ if they ask for help?”

“Of course-”

“Example, please.”

It was several, long moments of silence. Canach waited, looking over the circle of large griffons watching them. He kept eye contact with one, not going to give into it as its sharp eyes stared into his. He tilted his head in challenge at it and it squawked at him, almost sounding incredulous. He smirked at it.

“Knew you’d be a natural,” Magna replied from somewhere to his left. “Don’t let her get away with nothing. That one’ll eat you out of barracks and country, if you let her.”

“You’ve been training these griffons,” Canach replied, puzzle pieces slowly clicking together. “For what?”

“I’ll show you if you break the staring contest.”

“Magna, you should know by now that I do not back down from things.”

“Fine, fine. I’ll leave you two to it.”

Canach slowly approached the griffon he’d been staring at. He’d watched enough of Magna handling smaller griffons to have an idea of what to do.

But nothing prepared him for the loud _screech_ that echoed behind him. He spun around so fast that he almost fell over, but the griffon he’d been in contest with caught him with her flat head.

There was Magna, riding on the back of a _massive_ griffon with dark brown and orange plumage. They climbed into the sky at great speeds, landing on top of one of the nearby columns of rock. Damn her, he could make out the barest hint of a _smirk_ on her lips from this distance. She directed her griffon to jump from the column, flapping its large wings once, twice, then going into a sheer _dive_ at the Sanctuary.

They landed with a neat little pounce.

“May not be able to say no to helping people,” Magna replied, gently scratching her griffon’s neck and making it purr and chirp loudly, “but with rewards like this, I’m only encouraged to keep helping make my world a better place, y’know?”

“You’re insane,” Canach exhaled, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “Teach me.”

* * *

“Commanders, Canach's trying to sneak the explosives past their front line. Thinks he's back in the Shining Blade.”

Taliesinnia gave Magna a _look_. “He’s trying to impress you, isn’t he?”

“He knows he doesn’t have to,” Magna replied, shrugging. “It’s fine. Canach has a healthy sense of knowing when to quit while he’s ahead.”

“Mags, this is because you told him of that one time you snuck a bomb into a Mouth of Zhaitan, isn’t it.”

Magna opened her mouth to protest, then slowly shut it. “...it might be. I didn’t dare him. That was Reeva.”

“Mother damn it,” Taliesinnia replied. “Why am I the logical one now? I-”

Someone cleared their throat and Taliesinnia jumped. Magna snorted, resisting the temptation to scoop up her very smug boyfriend.

“Couldn't make it all the way to the gate alone,” Canach replied.

Magna raised an eyebrow as Taliesinnia and Braham sighed in unison. Out of their line of sight, Canach held up three fingers for Magna. He slowly counted them down as Taliesinnia asked, “What about the towers?”

The towers exploded as Canach’s countdown reached zero. He shrugged. “What about them?”

Magna laughed, her laughter almost louder than the battle ensuing around them. She leaned over, kissing Canach’s forehead carefully (avoiding his spinier bits). “There's our opening.” She turned to their army, raising her rifle in the air. “This is our moment, people! Let's go kick in Joko's front door!”

“Yeah!” Taliesinnia’s energy was back in full force as she _glowed_ from a mix of natural sylvari glow and having her soulbeast bond up at the same time. “WHO'S WITH US?”

* * *

Taliesinnia gestured at the giant gate. “Dearest brother, I believe this is your specialty!”

Canach hummed, eying the gate as he jogged towards it. “Wonderful gate. It _would_ be a shame if somebody blew a giant hole in it.” He knelt down, fiddling with his explosives.

“They would go down in history,” Magna deadpanned as she set up a sniper position next to where Canach was working, “as a true monster for ruining that decor.”

“Get me a plaque and I’ll cut the time in half.”

Braham smacked an Awakened mummy upside the head with his mace, yelling, “Stop flirting, get working!”

* * *

Braham groaned. “You might want to work faster, Canach.”

Canach tsked. “Art cannot be rushed, my friend.”

Magna shot an Awakened commander in the head. “Let the man do his work, Braham.”

Taliesinnia shouted, “His work needs to go faster-” She broke into a yelp, ducking and narrowly avoiding a sword slash from an Awakened soldier.

Rox bashed said soldier in the head with her fist, kicking it down and shooting it. She smiled at Taliesinnia. “We're with you, Talie!”

* * *

“More coming in!” Taimi called out.

Braham and Taliesinnia sighed in unison, snarling as they fought Awakened back to back.

Rox looked over her shoulder. “Canach! How much longer?”

Canach merely whistled in reply.

Magna lined up a shot, keeping an Awakened soldier from slicing Rox open. “Eyes up, Rox! I’ve got Canach duty, I’ll let you know when he’s close.”

* * *

Gorrick adjusted his glasses, leaning forward on his toes to get a better view of the battlefield. “Big bad uglies inbound!”

“Canach! Today would be good!” Braham yelled.

“Before we wilt, Canach!” Taliesinnia shouted.

Canach whistled more and Magna shouted back, “Almost there! You’re all looking good out there!”

* * *

“It’s been fun,” Magna whispered, “but they actually look like they need help now.”

Canach sighed quietly, looking over his shoulder at the madness behind them. Taliesinnia was on top of a giant sand tornado, screaming obscenities (specifically norn-flavored obscenities, which wasn’t a surprise in the slightest). Gorrick was inside of said tornado, keeping his mouth wisely shut and looking a little greener than usual. Braham was smacking a rather tall Awakened in the leg, being stuck under said Awakened’s foot. Rox was getting a few hits in here and there, to the shoulders and the knees. Taimi was smashing buttons, caught in a war within Scruffy. Who would win, Taimi’s specially built cleaning protocols or the sand that was being directed to stuff Scruffy’s limbs and systems? Canach was inclined to bet on the former, but he liked to hedge his bets by cheating.

“Grenade shot?” he whispered.

Magna hummed. “Easily doable. What kind?”

“Smoke,” he answered. “Blind him, disrupt him and break his eye contact with his targets.”

She nodded. He took out a grenade, checking quickly to make sure it was a smoke grenade before casually tossing it over his shoulder into the sky. He waited to hear the shot from Magna’s rifle before turning and rushing into the smoke.

Needing the locations of the others, he shouted, “Is this a bad time?”

“Canach!” Taliesinnia yelled. “Get back to work! We can handle this!” She was somewhere to his left (ten o’clock) and he could catch her orange glow in the corner of his eye. That was one.

He laughed. “Oh, I finished rigging the gate ages ago. Got bored, so I figured I'd help you lot.”

He heard Braham grunt, pinpointing the sound somewhere to his left, a close to where he’d heard Talie. Had he run for her the minute he’d been freed, if he was freed? Interesting. Filed that away into blackmail material for later. “Not funny.”

“Agree to disagree,” Canach replied. “Roll call: sound off.”

“Here,” Taimi and Gorrick replied simultaneously. Gorrick sounded a bit hoarse, noted. Both sounded a bit to his right, at about two o’clock.

“Sound off,” Magna drawled from behind him. Had his six, which made his chest feel light and fluttery. Later.

“Here,” Rox replied. Eight o’clock, sounded somewhat winded, but alright.

“Here,” an unfamiliar voice rasped. Five o’clock. How did the Awakened get behind him without him knowing? Sloppy. He turned, charging towards it.

There were two short whistled notes, quickly followed by one long birdlike whistled cry. There were wingbeats in the air and the smoke cleared. Magna’s griffon mount screeched, charging the Awakened and pinning it for a short moment before Magna whistled again and the griffon pounced off just in time for her to fire three precise bullets into its head, chest, and stomach. He sunk his sword into its chest, just to be sure.

“Well, that was a waste of a smoke grenade,” he replied.

“Canach,” Magna deadpanned, raising an eyebrow. “The bomb.”

He tossed her the detonator as he bowed. She caught it as he rumbled, “The gate awaits. Magna? Do the hon—?”

“JUST BLOW THE DAMN GATE, CANACH!” Taliesinnia yelled.

* * *

“Of course they go running off,” Canach snorted, watching Braham and Taliesinnia slowly disappear in the sewers below. He looked over to Magna, who was standing too close to the cliff for his liking. “What now?”

“I’m going after them,” Magna replied. “You’re taking the others to Rytlock.”

He frowned. “Sunglare, you can’t be serious.”

“I am.” She sighed, shaking her head. “If we die in there and get Awakened, it’s less people that everyone’ll have to deal with being weaponized, if this gets drawn out. If we win and Joko dies, then everything’s dandy.”

“If you die, you better haunt me,” Canach replied.

“Of course,” Magna replied without any hesitation. “Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

Canach looked away, cleaning his sword. “Try _not_ to die, of course.”

He felt her chin set down on his pauldron. “I always try not to, Canach. Stay safe.”

Magna was gone before he could say those three words. Wasn’t quite comfortable saying them in public, but it was fine. He had time to get better. Besides, they'd said it in their old way.

If he didn’t, he was going to rip Palawa Joko into pieces.

* * *

Three weeks later, Canach found himself in a secluded point of the Labyrinthine Cliffs. The Zephyrite festival was going on, but well. He’d never been one for parties anyway.

He sat on the beach, looking out over the water with his griffon providing him back support as they relaxed on the beach. Canach scratched gently behind one of her ear tufts and she purred, resting her chin on his lap.

“Thought I’d find you here.” Canach didn’t turn, but let himself smirk as Magna climbed over his griffon and settled in next to him.

“Not enjoying the festivities?” Canach asked, looking over at her as she settled her chin on his shoulder.

“I might get tooth rot from watching Talie drag Braham to every booth and shouting ka-Braham every time he wins at something,” Magna answered. “This is much more my speed. Though if you had another weapon you wanted to teach me, I’m more than eager to learn.”

He hummed. “If you’re open next week, I’ll see if I can get my hands on a good buckler. A full shield would be too clunky for how you fight, but a buckler might work for you.”

“Best. Boyfriend. _Ever_.” He tried not to melt as she purred against his neck. They sat like that for a bit, falling into the comfortable silence and cuddling.

“By the by, have you read the newest edition of the Krytan Gazette?” Canach asked. “Gossip section has an amusing tidbit about us.”

“Haven’t read it since we started being us,” Magna answered. “Haven’t felt the need to. Won’t lie and say that I’m _not_ curious though.”

“You stick your nose in almost everything, you’re the epitome of curiosity killed the charr.” He snorted, ruffling her hair.

“Satisfaction, determination, and a certain sylvari brought me back,” Magna teased. “Full statement’s better than the human propaganda. Speaking of which, what’s the Gazette saying about us now? I thought Talie quit writing for them.”

“I think this was her attempt to prank us,” he answered. “As revenge for something or another.” Canach shrugged, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Probably the door bomb gag,” Magna replied, “if I had to guess.”

“Regardless, the general gist of the story was that our love apparently makes us the worst.” He shrugged at her raising an eyebrow up at him. “That’s where I get the general impression that it was Taliesinnia.”

“Fair guess,” Magna rumbled. “What in specific does the idea of us being in sync make us the worst?”

“Apparently we enable each other’s bad habits of subterfuge and recklessness, make each other drop our old battlefield discipline,” Canach drawled. “I, apparently, make you, Magna ‘I jump in the line of fire to protect people’ Sunglare _reckless_.”

Magna snorted, her body shaking with laughter he knew she was holding in. “If they only knew.”

“What, that I tell you to please, stop leading the charge everywhere?” Canach asked. “Or that I teach you different fighting styles I’ve picked up over the years as a way to keep you safe since, stars know, that I can’t keep you from endangering yourself?”

“Somebody might say that the latter’s enabling me,” she teased, smirking up at him. Magna laughed as he leaned and nipped one of her ears.

Canach rested his forehead against hers. “Maybe I like enabling you.”

“Oh?” Magna asked, her eyebrow now raised just a hair higher than usual. “In what way?”

He kissed her again.

It was all that needed to be said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! I might do a side story or two (or three) elaborating on some stuff mentioned in this fic, but for now, that's this fluffy slowburn-ish story done with. Sorry that this chapter took so long to post -- I'd been on a pretty consistent schedule too, darn it. The griffon scene messed me up big time.
> 
> Magna's always been associated with griffons for me: her first iteration of herself was a ranger with a mini-griffon to appease myself for there being no griffon pet for the ranger. Then I fell in love with thief gameplay, so I made a new in-game iteration of Magna that's the deadeye of this fic. I kept the griffon association, since that was the mail carrier she used and it was a fun headcanon. When the griffon mount got revealed, I got _really_ excited. So when I wanted a scene with Magna opening herself up more to Canach, her wanting to show him another side of her that she doesn't show others, the idea of her getting him a griffon and teaching him how to ride one was a no-brainer. Execution's what tripped me up: that scene used to be a lot longer, but I felt like it didn't belong to that full of an extent in this story (that was _supposed_ to be short.
> 
> Anyway, thank y'all so much for sticking around with me for this long! I'm really excited that I swallowed my anxiety and shared this, this has become my _most_ popular fic in 2018 in such a short time-frame. I really appreciate the comments y'all left--sorry I responded sometimes in short essays. I get ramble-y.


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